


The Kabby Chronicles

by IsolationShepherd



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, F/M, Humour, Kabby, Smut, Time Travel, episodic, multiple AUs, then AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2020-12-24 21:27:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 57,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21106271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsolationShepherd/pseuds/IsolationShepherd
Summary: This is a time travelling multi-universe story written as though it is a TV series. There are seasons and episodes. Each episode has five or six parts (chapters) and is a stand-alone story with themes and threads that weave through the whole series. It is in novel form, not screenplay. There is also a theme tune! You can watch that here https://youtu.be/Dr8KEeWjzV8In Season one, episode one, Kane is on the Eligius ship in cryosleep, gravely ill. Abby must find a cure but she knows little about Sanctum, its people or its natural history. Her search is fraught with dangers, and even though she gets some help along the way, all doesn't go according to plan, leaving them to make a drastic and life-altering decision.





	1. The Anomaly, Part One

[Kabby Chronicles Theme](https://youtu.be/Dr8KEeWjzV8)

Season One

Episode One – The Anomaly

Part One

Paper. Everywhere. Its fibres crinkling beneath her arms, sticking to her skin when she lifted her hands to her head so she could hold it as though that would somehow bring clarity, a lightbulb moment. They’d had so little paper on the Ark, and now she was surrounded by it, living with it, sleeping with it, breathing in its musk and its mould spores. If only she could inhale the knowledge it contained. That would be easier than having to skim every page of every book and academic paper in the Sanctum library.

The paper was old and brittle and had a musty scent, like the decaying leaves she’d walked through during the one Fall they’d spent above ground on Earth, or the dusty corners of Mount Weather she’d explored looking for anything useful. Age had caused it, lack of sunlight, lack of use. Like her; how she felt even now, the bunker days still close enough to haunt her dreams, disturb the few quiet times she had. The Abby Griffin sitting at this table was a decaying husk of her former self.

Abby allowed the despair to wash over her for a moment, let it press her down towards the table until her elbows were splayed, and her head was almost resting on the wooden surface. That was another scent she wasn’t used to - wood ingrained with dirt and sweat and the skin cells of everyone who’d ever sat here, who’d traced the patterns in the wood with distracted fingers, lain their weary heads like Abby was doing. So different to the sterile metal of everything on the Ark and in the bunker. There’d been wood and paper in Eden of course, trees and flowers and earth and rain. She’d barely noticed it, stuck in the gas station, stuck with her addiction, caring only about herself, her next fix. Look where that had got her.

She sighed, and then she sat up straighter. Despairing wasn’t going to help her save Marcus and giving up wasn’t an option. She stood, went over to the shelf and pulled down another book. Another one by Josephine Lightbourne. That woman was crazy, a eugenicist on a par with Josef Mengele, the Angel of Death from Nazi Germany, worse maybe. The things she was proposing in her books made Abby shiver. If they ever managed to achieve them, what would that mean for the human race, for humanity? Still she read them, hoping there would be something to help Marcus, a line, an idea, something to spark her imagination, so she could bring back the man she loved. It was the least she could do after everything she’d put him through.

The door creaked and Abby looked up. A small boy hovered in the entrance, looking at her uncertainly.

“Come in,” she said curtly, because she was anxious to hear his news. He clutched the door frame but didn’t move. She’d been too short, too eager, and scared him.

“It’s okay,” she said more softly, attempting a smile. “Please come in.”

The child stepped gingerly into the library. He stopped at the table, put his small hands on it. Abby stayed on the other side, leaving a barrier between them, a line of defence the boy seemed to need.

“Have you found them?” she said.

He shook his head.

Damn! This was her last hope.

“Are you sure? Where did you look?”

“I been to all the lakes, Miss. Down far as the stream though I’m not s’pposed to go there.”

“And there was nothing?”

“No. I sees a man down by one of the lakes. I asks him. Says it’s late. Won’t be many left.”

Late in the season, yes. She’d known that. The book had described the lifecycle of the strange dragonfly-type creature Clarke had shown her, and they were in the last weeks, maybe days of its flight time, but it wasn’t too late. There was still time.

“He said there won’t be many left, but that means there are some. They must be out there somewhere,” she said to the boy.

“I didn’t seen them, Miss.”

“You obviously haven’t looked hard enough,” she said, noticing the boy flinch at her tone but dismissing it. A harsh word wouldn’t kill him, and this was important, he knew that. “Let me check the book again.”

She rummaged through the books and papers on the table, sending up clouds of dust as she overturned ones she hadn’t got around to reading yet. Where the hell was it?

“Ah, here it is.” She pulled out the book from the pile, flicked through the pages with bony fingers that still sometimes shook even though it had been weeks, centuries even, since she’d last had a pill. “Lan Hudie Rhopalocera. It metabolises urea and creatine. Flight time is from the second to the third quarter suns. We’re still a week away from that. They’ll be flying somewhere.”

She looked up, and realised she was talking to herself. The boy had gone. Forget him, then; she’d have to go and look herself. Probably should have done that in the first place but she was better employed here, amongst the books. She went to the door, looked out. Still daylight. Good. Might as well go and search now. With any luck she’d have some specimens by suns down.

Abby strode out into the glare of the afternoon suns. She stopped, turned her face up briefly, closed her eyes. The warmth caressed her. She thought about a time way back, when she and Marcus had lain on the grass behind Arkadia, tired after a day spent digging and planting. The sun had been hot then too, beating down on them, warming their bodies, lifting their tired hearts. They’d slept briefly side by side, and she’d woken to find him curled towards her, his arm flung across her chest. She’d wriggled out gently before he woke and had never told him because they weren’t together back then, were only just becoming friends. His touch had warmed her, though, which was perhaps the more honest reason why she hadn’t told him. The memory of it warmed her now, and she smiled.

There were a few Sanctum citizens sitting on chairs and benches, standing in small groups talking, or going about their business, whatever that was. She walked past the colourful containers, the bright chairs, the multi-coloured flags of the city. It was like living in a rainbow, and she wasn’t sure if there was a pot of gold or a pot of something far more sinister at the end of it. She walked to the lake in the centre of the city, hugged its curves as she checked every bush for the dragonfly, scanned the sky with eyes that were still unused to the harsh light, the orange glare of this strange moon. She shielded her eyes with her hands, squinted, narrowed the lenses, brought her focus in until she was aware of every winged creature that whizzed and danced over the shimmering water. There were flies and bees and god knows what, but no dragonflies. She’d have to go further, down the cliffs and through the woods to the fertile plains at the bottom of the hill where there was plenty of water.

She had no idea how to get there, couldn’t remember how they’d arrived at this godforsaken place. She might need to go beyond, past the electromagnetic field but she didn’t know the code. The suns were waning, the orange glow intensifying as they sank closer to the horizon. It would be madness to go now, but every day wasted left fewer dragonflies. She stood at the edge of the lake, looking back at the Disney-style castle that rose above the city. She’d go tomorrow, after she’d checked the books again.

Abby headed to the library. There was a whole shelf of books and papers she hadn’t even checked yet. There was bound to be something in them. Gaia was sitting at one of the tables near the door and she stood as Abby approached.

“Abby. How are you?” she said.

“I’m fine.” Abby continued walking, but Gaia moved in front of her, blocking her entrance to the library.

“A few of us are having a drink together. Why don’t you join us?”

“Thanks, but I have a lot of work to do.” Abby smiled tightly, hoping that would be enough to deter Gaia. It was not.

“You are working very hard, but rest is good too.”

“There’ll be time to rest when I’ve cured Marcus.”

“You can miss things, though, when you’re tired. Crucial things perhaps.” Gaia’s large brown eyes stared firmly at Abby.

“Yes. Perhaps. I...”

“A little conversation, a change of scenery might allow the other side of the brain to work, to see something that was hidden.”

She had a point. Abby’s eyes hurt and her brain was fogged and tired. She didn’t know what day it was or how long they’d been on Sanctum. Maybe she was missing something crucial.

“I suppose...”

Gaia’s hand pressed into the small of Abby’s back and she found herself steered towards the bar. Her legs seemed to move of their own accord and before she knew it she was through the doors and inside the brightly-coloured room.

“Look who I found,” said Gaia, gently pushing Abby towards a table where Jackson was sitting with Nate, Echo and Bellamy. Everyone looked up at her except Jackson. They’d had words last time they’d met. Abby had told him some truths that he hadn’t wanted to hear. She stood awkwardly, wishing she’d ignored Gaia and gone to the library as planned.

“I’m not staying,” she said.

“Of course you are,” said Bellamy. “Let me get you a drink.” He stood and took Abby’s arm, guiding her to the seat he’d vacated. He left to go to the bar before Abby could object.

Abby brushed a strand of her long hair out of her eyes, pulled the sleeves down on her tunic so they covered her palms. She sat with her arms resting on the table, her foot tapping a rhythm on the floor.

“We saw you taking a walk around the lake. Nice to get out in the fresh air, isn’t it?” Gaia took a seat next to Abby.

“I was looking for the dragonfly.”

“What dragonfly?” said Echo.

“One that can help Marcus, keep his kidneys functioning while I do the surgery he needs. Clarke figured it out.”

“Oh, that’s great. Did you find any?”

“No. It’s not the right environment. I have to go down the mountain, maybe even to where we landed. That big lake there.” Abby tapped her fingers on the table. She was feeling jittery, wired. She didn’t really have the time to be sitting still. A pill would be good right now, would calm her down, help her focus. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, then exhaled, letting the need out, her mind’s eye watching it disappear into the air like a wisp of smoke. Someone took her hand, squeezed it, stilling her restless fingers. When she opened her eyes, she saw it was Gaia.

“You shouldn’t go down there alone, Abby,” she said.

“Definitely not,” said Bellamy as he placed a glass in front of Abby. “If you need something, we’ll go with you.”

“It’s not necessary.” Abby slipped her hand from Gaia’s grip, pulled the glass towards her. “I’ll be fine.” She took a sip of the drink. It smelled earthy but tasted sweet. “What is this?”

“No one knows,” laughed Bellamy.

“You won’t find them.” Jackson’s voice was muffled, because his head was down, his chin buried in his jacket.

“I’m sorry?” said Abby, annoyed at his negativity.

Jackson looked up, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes cold and defiant. “The flight time is over. There are none left to catch.”

“There’s at least a week left. There are lots to be found.”

Jackson shook his head. He leaned forward, put his hands on the table. “You’re fooling yourself. There was a week left three days ago. Even if you find a few specimens they’ll be at the end of their lives, and you won’t find enough.”

Abby looked down at her drink. “There’s still time,” she murmured.

“I’m sure we’ll find some if we all look,” said Bellamy.

“It’s pointless.”

Gaia sighed heavily. “Look, we came in here to take our minds off everything, if only for a few minutes. This isn’t helping.”

Abby saw Gaia glare at Jackson as she spoke. She knew they’d brought her in to distract her, try and force her to take a break. She was grateful in a small way for their concern, but Gaia was right. It wasn’t helping.

“Thank you for the drink.” Abby stood, her chair scraping across the metal of the container floor as she pushed it back.

“Abby,” said Bellamy and Gaia in unison.

“I really do have a lot to do.” She walked out of the room, ignoring their whispered admonishments of Jackson and his angry defence.

It was dark outside; the suns having slipped quickly below the horizon. Insects buzzed around the lights that were strung between the containers. None of them were the dragonfly of course. Was Jackson right? Had she really miscalculated the dates? It was possible, because most of her days down here had merged into one, and there might have been a couple of times when she hadn’t seen daylight at all. Damn it. She’d have to find another solution.

She pushed open the door to the library, moved a pile of books and papers to the floor and went over to the shelf at the far end of the room, took down as many books as she could and wobbled over to the table with them teetering like the Leaning Tower of Pisa in her arms. She dropped them with a thud onto the surface, sneezed as dust flew directly into her nose and eyes, irritating them. She rubbed them, and then she found her notebook, sat in her seat and opened the first book.

\---

“I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here.”

A gruff male voice shocked a dozing Abby into full wakefulness, and she jumped, her head and arms lifting from where they were resting on the table and banging back down again with a painful thump.

“Wha? What the hell?” She sat up, looked around. A tall man was standing in front of her, running his hand through his short, dirty blonde hair and frowning at her. His moustache was neat, and his beard trimmed close. Locks of his hair fell loose when he dropped his hand from stroking it. He reminded her of Marcus, back on the Ark, always neat and tidy and groomed to perfection, apart from that one lock of hair that would never obey. This man was wearing one of the cloaks of the royal guard, the cape trimmed with gold. He wasn’t a Prime, but close to them, special.

He wrinkled his nose as he surveyed the library. Abby shuffled in her seat. Did it smell bad in here? Probably the musty scent of the books. His eyes alighted again on Abby, looked her up and down, his nose still creased. Maybe it was her who smelled. She turned her head to one side, tried to surreptitiously sniff her armpit. God, yes, it was her. How long had she smelled like this? How bad was it? She ran a hand through her hair. It felt greasy, and her braid was loose, almost completely undone. She smoothed her hair as best she could, brought her arms in tight to her body as though that would contain the smell, which she had to accept probably wasn’t only coming from her armpits.

“What can I do for you?” she said sharply, because his blue eyes looking her over and judging her scruffiness were making her feel uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” he said in that soft way all the elite people here had of talking. It was meant to disarm, but it set Abby on edge.

“Then tell me what you want, and we can both get on with our days.”

“I didn’t realise this was your library. You must forgive me.” He smiled gently and Abby felt a momentary stab of guilt, which she soon dismissed. Yes, she was a guest in this city, but no one ever came to the library. This man was the first person in however long she’d been here.

“Obviously, this is, erm, not my.” She put her hands to her head, tucked some greasy strands of hair behind her ear. “Please. Feel free to get what you need.” She gestured to the rest of the room.

The man followed the sweep of her arm, and Abby followed his gaze, seeing with first time clarity the chaos she’d created during her frantic days locked away in this room.

“That might be difficult,” he said. “The system seems to have been altered.”

“Ah, yes. I’ve been busy.”

“I can see.” The man held out a gloved hand to Abby. “I’m Gavin.”

Abby hesitated, then took his hand, shook it firmly. “Abby Griffin.”

“Nice to meet you, Abby.”

“You’re in the Guard,” Abby said, pointing to his cloak.

“Yes. For the glory and grace of the Primes.”

“Hmm.” Abby didn’t bother to hide her distaste for their religion.

“You don’t approve.”

“I don’t really have an opinion on the matter.”

“Seems that you do.”

“Not one you need to hear. Please, tell me what you’re looking for. If it’s in here, the chances are I’ve read it.”

“It’s a history book regarding Mission Team Alpha,” said Gavin.

“Oh. I haven’t really bothered with Eligius history. That section is over there.” Abby waved behind her, then she rubbed her tired eyes and found her notebook. She read over her notes from before she fell asleep. She hadn’t found anything of interest.

She let out a deep sigh, the expelled air thrumming against her lips.

“Is everything okay?” said Gavin from behind her, causing Abby to jump again. She’d already forgotten he was there.

“Yes. I just can’t find what I need. I’m starting to wonder if it even exists.”

“Perhaps I can help.”

“I doubt it.”

“Try me.” He approached Abby, leant over her from behind, so close his scent wafted over her. Pine. Like the trees back home. The memory was unnerving and she shifted uncomfortably. “You’re looking for alternatives to dialysis,” he said, reading the book from over her shoulder.

Abby closed the book, unwilling to reveal anything about Marcus to this unknown Prime lover. “Perhaps I can help you with your search.” She pushed her chair back, forcing Gavin to hop quickly out of her way. “A history of the Alpha Mission, you say?” She marched over to the cupboard containing the history books, ran her fingers over the spines. Nothing relevant. She pulled open drawers, flicked through their contents. “Ah! What about this?” She showed Gavin a book entitled _Mission Accomplished: Project Alpha from the Inside._

Gavin took the book, flipped its pages. “This is great, yes. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Abby returned to her seat, picked up her pen. To her surprise, Gavin pulled out a chair opposite her and sat in it. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to read the book.” He peeled off his gloves, laid them neatly on top of a pile of papers next to him.

“Here? Now?”

“Yes.”

Gavin opened the flyleaf, read the publishing information. Dear God, he was going to read it cover to cover. Abby would never get rid of him.

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable at home, or wherever you normally reside?”

“No, I’m fine here.” He looked up at her, smiled, then turned to the next page, which was the list of contents.

“For God’s sake,” muttered Abby under her breath.

“I’m not bothering you, am I?” he said, glancing at her.

“Not at all.” Abby gave him a sarcastic smile, and he looked away. She thought she saw him smile as he bent his head towards the page, but maybe it was a grimace.

She wasn’t used to someone else being in the room with her, and it put her on edge. She was like a cat on hot bricks, up and down, roaming the room, checking the shelves for books she’d missed. She couldn’t sit still for long enough to concentrate. She should take the papers outside, but then she might see Jackson, or Gaia, and be disturbed even more.

An hour of restless silence passed, during which Gavin had read thirty-four pages of the huge book. Abby knew because she’d been keeping count and could see the page number he was on when she walked past him on one of her wanders around the library.

“What’s Earth like?” Gavin said when Abby had been sitting still for at least ten minutes, a record.

“Obliterated,” she said without looking up.

“I meant before. What was it like?”

She frowned when she looked at him. “Like here in a lot of ways.”

“What ways?”

“Earth, sky, water, trees.” She shrugged.

“You only had one sun, though.”

“Yes. One sun, one moon. Eight planets in the solar system.”

“What was it like to only have one sun?” Gavin sat back in his chair, crossed his arms. Did he want an Earth History lesson?

“It wasn’t as bright as here, well not as orange. I wasn’t on earth for long, not the surface anyway, but it was hot and cold and most times a nice in-between. When I first landed there, I thought it was so beautiful. Green and blue mainly, with snow-capped mountains, and air so sweet I just wanted to stand and breathe it in forever.”

“You weren’t used to air?” Gavin said incredulously.

“We came from the Ark, an orbiting space station. The only air I’d ever breathed was recycled.”

“I hadn’t realised that.”

“It was very different. I couldn’t believe my luck.” She smiled at the memory of that first landing, when she’d opened the hatch and stood alone on the roof of Mecha station, hardly believing she was seeing what she was. Then Marcus had joined her and she’d heard his sharp intake of breath, saw him shield his eyes as he looked towards the sun. A wonderful experience to share with him after everything they’d been through to get there.

“It does sound lovely,” said Gavin.

“It’s lovely here in its own way.”

“Only in Sanctum. Everywhere else there are too many things wanting to kill you.”

“It’s kind of like that on Earth,” said Abby laughing.

“You have a beautiful laugh.”

Abby was taken aback. Was he flirting with her? She looked at him, surprised. He was all of twenty-something, and she was twice his age and scruffy and smelled like god knows what.

“That’s, erm...”

“Oh, I didn’t mean anything untoward by that. You just do. I’m married,” he said, showing her a ring on his finger.

“So am I,” said Abby, which wasn’t technically true, but as good as, and he didn’t need to know that.

“Where is your husband?”

Abby tucked her hair behind her ears again. “He’s unwell.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is that what you’re looking for? Something to help him?”

Abby put her head in her hands, rubbed her eyes. She was tired, so tired. Too tired to pretend with this young man who seemed harmless. And if he wasn’t, so what? He couldn’t hurt Marcus while he was safe in cryo up on the ship.

“Yes. I’m a doctor, but I don’t know what you have here, what’s available, what can help. I’m trying to get ideas really, more than anything else.”

“What do you think you’re looking for?”

“Something that can aid his kidney function, stabilise his vital organs so I can operate on him. He’s in cryosleep at the moment.”

“Let me help you,” said Gavin, and he took off his cloak, draped it over a neighbouring chair. “Two sets of eyes are better than one, right?”

Abby swallowed, moved by his kindness. “Yes. Okay.” She turned away while she wiped her tears with the back of her sleeve, not wanting him to see how close to the edge she was. “Thank you,” she sniffed.

“It’s no problem. Which books haven’t you read yet?”

Abby handed him a small pile and he set them down and started to turn the pages. She watched him for a moment, and then returned to her own work. They sat in a companionable silence, reading and writing. Gavin would occasionally show Abby a section from a book, see if it was useful. Nothing had been so far.

“What happened to your husband?” he said when they both took a break to stretch their limbs and ease their tired shoulders and necks.

“He was stabbed. I thought I’d fixed him when we got here, but he was haemorrhaging internally and I lost him, briefly. I got him back but he can’t come out of cryo until I find a cure. He’d die within minutes if not seconds.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah. I’ll save him though. I have to.”

Gavin nodded. “He must be a good person to be loved so much by you.”

“He is. Better than me. Better than most of us.” Abby glanced at Gavin, screwed up her face to prevent the tears falling.

“Why do you say he’s better than you?”

“Because he is. I’m. I’m not a good person. Not anymore.”

“That seems hard to believe.” Gavin stroked his chin while he contemplated her. He was so like Marcus it was strangely comforting. She felt like she knew him, and he knew her, saw into her heart.

“It’s my fault he got stabbed. It’s all my fault. Everything.” She sobbed, then wiped her eyes, looked at him, because you should be able to look the other person in the eye when you’re telling the truth, showing them who you really are. You can’t hide from it. She’d tried that and it hadn’t worked.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is. It is. It’s okay.” Abby sniffed. “I’ve accepted it, my guilt. But I have to save him. You can see why, can’t you?”

“I can see why you feel like you need to, yes.”

“Good. Yes. Okay. Back to work.” Abby put her head down, grateful for her long hair which covered her face, hid her tears from Gavin, tears which were flowing with full force, splattering onto the paper like raindrops on a windowpane. He could probably hear them, but there was nothing she could do. Her sleeve was too damp to soak them up and there were too many.

Another hour later and Gavin was striding around the library, stopping now and then to look at the exhibits in the glass cases. Abby pushed her chair back so she could stretch her legs. She watched him as he paced.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” she said. “I don’t mean to get rid of you. I was just wondering.”

“Not really. My wife is on duty and I came here to study. I want to improve my rank in the Guard, and I need to understand the history of the Primes better in order to do that.”

“I’m keeping you from that task, then.”

“No,” he said softly. “I want to help you.”

“Marcus was in the guard on the Ark.”

“Your husband?”

“Yes, Marcus, that’s his name. He was head of the guard. We hated each other.” She laughed. It was funny how you could think back fondly to times in your life that had seemed so strained, so difficult.

“Really?”

“Yes. He tried to kill me. He punished me. I betrayed him, hurt him quite badly along the way.”

“It’s funny how we often hurt most the ones we love.”

“I didn’t love him back then! He was a pain in my ass, and I was the same for him.”

“Not now, though.”

“No. Time changes you, and circumstances, and we’ve both made a lot of mistakes. Epic mistakes.” She laughed softly. “I think in the end we realised we were better together than against each other. Then somewhere along the way we fell in love. Funny how that happens.” She drifted away for a moment, back to Arkadia, to Polis, to the broken tower where they’d made something new and wonderful together.

“My wife, Sierra, and I have an arranged marriage. It’s common here,” said Gavin, bringing Abby back to the present.

“Wow. Do you, you know...”

“Do we love each other? Yes. Luckily, we do. I don’t know if I could be with someone I didn’t love, but I’d have to. That’s how it works here.”

“I’d rather be alone. I was quite prepared for a life on my own before Marcus.”

“You’d have no choice. There’s no defying the Primes.”

“You don’t know me,” said Abby with a sly smile.

Gavin laughed. “I think I do.”

He returned to the table and opened another book. Abby followed him. She felt normal for the first time since they’d left Earth. It would no doubt only be for a short while, but it felt good.

“What about this?” said Gavin after a few minutes. He showed her a page with a picture of a tree with a wooden peg knocked in it, and sap pouring out. “This sap is supposed to heal wounds.”

Abby took the book from him, looked at the cover. “It’s mythological, not scientific.”

Gavin drew a deep breath. “I know, but I think I’ve heard of this before.” He flicked through the pages relating to the sap. “Yes. It grows in the outlands, beyond the force field.”

“You’ve seen it?” Abby’s heartrate picked up. She traced the picture of the tree with her finger. “It’s not in any of the science books.”

“I haven’t seen it, no, but I’ve heard of it, its magical properties.”

“If it’s so magical why isn’t it being used here?”

“Because we’re told it’s not real, plus it’s outside the force field, and it’s in Children of Gabriel territory. No one dares go there.”

“No one dares,” she said quietly. “We have to find it,” she said more loudly. “I’m running out of options, and time.”

“You’ll never make it, Abby. You won’t get past the security for a start.”

Abby looked Gavin squarely in the eyes. “If only I knew someone in the Guard.”

He pursed his lips, sucked his bottom one in while he looked at her. “It’s dangerous.”

“Too dangerous?”

He sighed. “I’ll have to think of a cover story, in case we’re caught.”

Abby sat back in her chair, relief flooding her body, making her limbs tingle. “We won’t get caught,” she said, and then she leaned across the table and pressed a soft kiss to Gavin’s cheek. “Thank you.”


	2. The Anomaly Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby's on a mission to find the tree sap.

[Kabby Chronicles Theme](https://youtu.be/Dr8KEeWjzV8)

The next day Abby woke up full of anticipation. She’d slept in the bed allocated to her for the first time in days, and she felt relaxed and ready for anything. She showered, braided her hair and put on the clothes she’d washed last night. They were still a little damp, so she stood in the warm suns outside her room with her arms spread out and her face turned to the sky and let their early-morning rays dry her. It was amazing what hope could do. She wasn’t fooling herself; there were no guarantees this tree sap existed, nor that they’d find it if it did. Still. There was possibility, and that was all she needed.

“Won’t be long, my love,” she whispered to Marcus, who was orbiting in the spaceship somewhere above them. She missed talking to him, hearing his gentle voice, his wise words. Even when they’d been apart they’d had the radio, talking long into the night about everything and nothing. Sometimes she’d fallen asleep with his voice in her ear, waking up hours later with the radio pressed painfully to her head and static instead of him. They’d laugh about it the next night. He would say how boring he must be, and she would reassure him, tell him it was his soothing tones that gave her peace. She wished she could radio him now. She could, if she wanted to, but he wouldn’t answer.

When she’d dried enough to be comfortable, she went to the library. The chaos she’d left yesterday was still there, books and papers spread over the table and scattered on the floor. Inside, the air was still, and now that she was clean herself she could smell the must of the books and the stale scent of her own sweat. Gavin had been brave to come in here and stay. She hadn’t figured out why he’d done it, why he hadn’t just taken his book and fled. He was a good man, she was sure. He’d probably seen something in her, her desperation maybe, and wanted to help. Some people were selfless like that. Abby used to be like that. Now she felt ashamed, because she’d thought of nobody but herself and Marcus since they’d landed here. There was Clarke, of course, but she didn’t need her mom, hadn’t for a long time now.

Abby left the door open so the room could air. She picked up the book with the tree sap information, tore out the relevant pages and put them in her pocket. Then she systematically searched every other mythology book in the library, looking for other mentions of the healing power of this tree. There was one in a book about myths and legends, so she tore that page out as well and secreted it with the others.

Gavin had said he would come when his wife had gone to work, which if she kept the same schedule as yesterday should be any minute. Too excited to settle, Abby wandered the library, perusing the exhibits in the glass cases she’d never paid attention to before. There were some strange creatures within, different to things she’d seen on Earth but with enough similarities to tug at the memory, make her screw up her face as she tried to figure out what they reminded her of.

“Morning.”

Abby turned to see Gavin standing in the doorway. He’d foregone his cloak and was wearing a dark grey sweater and black pants. Abby’s heart lifted at the sight of him. He’d kept his promise.

“Morning. You got away okay, then.”

“Sierra has reported for duty. We have maybe five hours, six at the most before I’ll be missed.” He put a bag on the table. “I thought we could take the books with us.” He picked up the one he’d found the day before.

“Ah, erm. I already got the relevant information.” Abby sheepishly pulled out the folded pieces of paper she’d torn from the books, showed them him.

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t admonish her. “I think we should take the books. I decided it would be best to be as truthful as possible. You’re a skilled doctor, keen to share your expertise with us, needing to understand our local flora, and you need a local guide and protector. That’s our cover story. The truth.”

“I like it.” Abby gave him the torn pages and he tucked them into the books.

“We won’t tell any security people we meet that we’re going to Children of Gabriel territory because they’d stop us. Once we get there it will be dangerous. For you, and especially for me.”

“I really appreciate you helping me,” said Abby, who was starting to realise the enormity of what Gavin was risking. Yesterday she’d cared for nothing but getting the tree sap for Marcus. That hadn’t changed, but with her body rested and her mind clearer, she was aware of what this young man was willing to do. Of course, it could be a trap, but what would be the point? She was only looking for medicine, and she was an asset to this community. They’d be crazy to try and get rid of her in any way.

“I’ve brought the equipment we’ll need, and some dried fruit and nuts and water.” Gavin showed her the contents of his bag before shutting it and doing up the straps. He strung it across his shoulder. “There are things we can eat along the way. There are some beautiful red berries that are sweet and bitter at the same time. They should be out by now.”

“I’m looking forward to this. Is that strange?” said Abby as they left the library.

“It’s good to have a little adventure in life.”

“Oh, I’ve had more than my share of adventure.” Abby followed Gavin, nibbling on a piece of dried fruit he’d given her.

“Then you can keep me entertained with your stories.”

They got strange looks from the Sanctum citizens as they walked across the city. No one from Skaikru was around which Abby was grateful for. She didn’t need Jackson’s negativity or Gaia’s positivity as well-meaning as it was. She needed someone willing to be proactive who didn’t bring any emotional baggage to the situation, and that’s exactly what Gavin provided.

“What will you say to your wife if news of this gets back to her?”

“I’ll tell her the truth, but only if she asks.”

“Marcus always knows if I’m hiding something from him, always has done.”

“You said you didn’t like each other for a long time. Why was that?”

“This story could take our entire journey,” said Abby with a small laugh.

“We have nothing else to do right now.” Gavin turned and smiled at her. Abby increased her pace so she was walking next to him.

“You’ll have to slow down a little; I can’t keep up with your long strides. Marcus is the same.”

“Of course. I’m sorry. My wife complains of the same thing.” He slowed so that Abby could keep up.

“Marcus and I have known each other a long time, but the reasons we disliked each other are many and complex.”

Abby’s story about her time on the Ark with Marcus took them across the city and into the woods that clung to the mountainside. The path down was steep and wound around the cliffs that held the city above them. Abby soon lost her sense of direction. It didn’t help that the brief glimpses she got of the land below were identical, the fertile fields set out in a kaleidoscopic pattern of reds and blues and greens.

“Who designed the city?” she said to Gavin when they paused to take a drink of water.

“The first families. The Primes.”

“I’m curious as to why it’s so colourful.”

“Colour brings joy.” Gavin handed his water flask to Abby and she took a long draft.

“Oh, that’s good.” She handed it back to him. “Do you think it’s joyful, though?”

“Yes. Don’t you?”

“I don’t know. It feels like I’m living inside something my daughter drew when she was five.”

“You think our city is childish.”

“Childlike, perhaps.”

“Everything in Sanctum is designed to bring comfort to its people. Perhaps that’s why it seems childlike to you.”

“Perhaps. I haven’t known comfort in a long time.” Not even the comfort of Marcus, thought Abby. Not since the drugs really took hold. Not properly. It wasn’t his fault; it was hers. Even that night he’d come back, and they’d lain in the same bed together, they hadn’t made love. They’d barely touched each other. There was too much between them for it to disappear in a moment. Trust takes time; he’d said that to her in Polis. She’d thought they had time, but they hadn’t. Would never have it again if she didn’t find this tree sap.

“Are you okay?” said Gavin, his blue eyes probing her face.

“Yes. I’m fine. Let’s keep going.” Abby picked a couple of nuts out of the bag Gavin proffered and then followed him down the path.

The trees grew closer together the further they descended, reaching to a sky Abby couldn’t see because the canopy was closed above their heads, making a shadowy underworld beneath. The air became still and warm and hard to breathe. Abby sweated as she tried to keep pace with Gavin who had forgotten his earlier promise to walk more slowly. He was confident on these slopes where she was on unfamiliar ground and was cautious. Her pride wouldn’t let her ask him to slow down a second time. She soon lost sight of him.

A buzzing noise broke the silence, getting louder. It reminded her of the drone on Becca’s Island, and she crouched instinctively, looked around. She felt a sharp stabbing pain in the back of her leg and moved her hand to the area. Another pain on the back of her hand. She jumped up, flailed her arms. It was a huge insect, and then another, and another. A whole swarm. She cried out as she felt another sting.

“Abby!” Gavin appeared, his sweater pulled up, protecting his face. He held out his hand and Abby took it. He dragged her away, running down the uneven path, and Abby stumbled behind him, praying that she wouldn’t fall. They ran until they suddenly broke through into a clearing on the edge of a lake, and light dazzled Abby. She fell on her knees on the grass, doubled over, holding her chest as she took wheezy breaths that tasted of metal.

Gavin stood beside her, his hands on his hips, his head down. He too was wheezing.

“What...was...that...?” said Abby, each word punctuated by a whistle from her aching chest and throat.

“You must have stood on a wood wasp’s nest.”

“Those were wasps? Jesus. We had smaller rats on Earth. Are we safe now?”

“Yes. They don’t like the open air.”

“Thank God.” Abby rolled onto her back, looked up at the blue sky and tried to calm her beating heart. The puncture sites were throbbing, and when she put her good hand on top of her injured hand it was warm. “Will I be okay?”

“Can I see?” Gavin knelt beside her, took her hand in his. “You’ve got a couple of stings here. That’s not so bad.”

“There are some on my legs as well.”

Gavin looked her over, no doubt taking in her form-fitting outfit.

“I’m not taking my pants off,” said Abby.

“No, no. How many times do you think you were stung on your legs?”

“Two maybe.”

“Okay.” His eyes roamed her body, starting at her head, and ending abruptly at her chest. “Erm. There’s one, erm, there.” He pointed at her breast.

Abby looked down, saw an itchy red mark forming on the swell of her breast. “Don’t look at that!” she said.

“I’m not. I’m. I’m not. I’m not looking at...that...area. At all.” A blush formed on his cheeks and he looked away.

Abby tried to pull her top up to cover the mark but it was hopeless. “Am I going to die?” she said, huffily.

“I don’t think so. You’re just going to be uncomfortable. I’ll look out for some sebba leaves along the way. They can relieve the itching.”

“Thank you.”

Gavin stood, held his hand out to Abby and she let him pull her up. He smiled.

“What?”

“Now I can’t stop looking. I’m sorry. I’m not being a pervert, it’s just you said not to look and now, well it’s hard not to.”

“Let’s just find the damned tree sap,” said Abby, and she smiled when Gavin turned his back on her and led the way along the edge of the lake to its junction with a field full of the strange red crop Abby had encountered when she’d first arrived.

The crops in this field were low-growing and provided no cover. Abby felt exposed as they crossed the field. Would people be able to see them from the top of the mountain? What about the guards Gavin had mentioned? Where were they? She hadn’t come across any before, but presumably they patrolled the valuable fields in some kind of rotation.

As she had this thought, a guard came into view where the field of red crops met the field of green. He had his back to them. Gavin stopped, turned to Abby.

“We stick to the truth, remember.”

Abby nodded.

Gavin strode confidently forward. The rustle of the crops as they walked alerted the guard and he turned, held his long wooden spear towards them. He relaxed when he recognised Gavin.

“For the glory and grace of the Primes,” said Gavin, stepping forward and shaking hands with the man.”

“For the glory and grace of the Primes. We don’t often see you out here, Gavin.” The man looked Abby up and down and frowned.

“I’m escorting the doctor of the sky people as she looks for herbs.”

The guard didn’t look convinced. He took Gavin to one side, but Abby could hear their conversation, although she pretended not to be interested.

“We’ve heard her people are not to be trusted.”

“I don’t know about the rest of them, but this one is okay. She has much knowledge to share with us.”

“It could be a ruse, Gavin. How do you know you can trust her?”

“She is looking for specimens. What can she gain other than knowledge?”

There was silence, during which Abby could feel both men’s eyes on her. She forced herself to keep looking away, staring out towards the forest as though she had seen something fascinating there.

“I am the one alone with her,” said Gavin. “The only danger is to me and look at us. Do you think a tiny person like that can get the better of me?”

The guard laughed. “You would not be worthy of your place in the guard if she did.”

Gavin laughed as well. “No. We are only going into the woods and down to the lake. You will hear me if I scream.” He laughed again.

“Very well. I will turn the force field off for you. Watch out, though. The Children of Gabriel have been seen in the area.”

“I will be careful. Thank you, my friend.”

Gavin returned to Abby. He didn’t speak, just walked to the edge of the field and Abby followed. He turned, looking for a signal from the guard, which must have come, because he stepped forward. Abby hesitated, remembering the electricity that had fizzed around Kaylee Prime when she’d walked through it, and the grave of Shaw who had died trying to.

“It’s okay, Abby,” said Gavin. “But you have to hurry.”

Abby took a deep breath and followed him across the border. Nothing happened, and then a couple of seconds later the field buzzed back into life.

“Thank you for dealing with the guard,” she said. “Although I’ll have you know, I’m a lot tougher than I look.”

Gavin smiled. “I have no doubt. Okay, we need to stick together and be careful as we go into the woods. We will make valuable hostages for the Children of Gabriel if they catch us.”

Into woods again, and a more dappled light than before. The air smelled of moss and earth, and it caused Abby’s heart to constrict, taking her back to Earth, and the woods around Arkadia. Gavin stopped suddenly, and Abby had to put the breaks on to avoid bumping into him. He bent, tore some leaves off a bush.

“Sebba leaves. For your stings.” He held them out to Abby with a smirk on his face. She grabbed them from him.

“Thank you. Can you turn around?” She twirled her fingers to emphasise her point. Gavin turned his back to her.

Abby rubbed one of the leaves across her breast and the relief was instant. She sighed happily.

“I take it they’re working?”

“Yes. Keep facing that way.” Abby pulled down her pants, pressed the leaves to the back of her legs. “Oh, God,” she said as she rubbed the skin gently. “That feels good.”

“Sebba leaves are good for insect bites as well.”

“I’m going to make a note,” said Abby as she pulled up her pants. “You can look now.”

Gavin turned, keeping his twinkling eyes on Abby’s face. He sat on a rock while Abby took out her notebook and made a quick sketch of the leaves and noted where they could be found.

“Are we far from where the tree sap is located?” she said.

Gavin opened the books and took out the torn pages. He spread them on the ground and he and Abby bent over them, munching on nuts and dried fruit as they discussed how to interpret the vague descriptions and poorly drawn maps.

“I think this body of water might be Kepa-She Lake. We’re about two miles from there. Then if we follow the edge of the lake for another mile or so we may be in the general area.”

“That’s a lot of uncertainties,” said Abby as she packed her notebook away.

“It’s all we have.”

“Then we’d better get on with it.”

They walked the two miles to the edge of the lake without incident. Abby wasn’t sure if it was the one they’d landed beside but it might well be because it seemed huge, stretching as far as the eye could see in both directions. It was narrow where they approached it, the forest on the other side crowding down to the lake’s edge. They walked along the bank, and Abby kept her eye out for the dragonfly. What she would do if she saw one she didn’t know, because the only jars she’d brought were for the precious tree sap, and they had no net or means of catching it.

She spent the next mile simultaneously hoping she would see dragonflies as they were still a possible aid for Marcus, and hoping she would not, as to see them and not be able to catch them would be heart-breaking. There were no dragonflies, nor many insects of any variety thank God.

Gavin stopped again, opened the map he’d kept in his pocket. “Does that look like this stone to you?” he said, pointing at a rock half-covered by vegetation. Abby went over to it, pulled off the strings of leaves that were wrapped around it, then stepped back, looked from the drawing to the real-life version.

“It kind of looks like it. You could call that a face, I suppose; that could be a nose” she said, indicating a prominence on the rock.

“The drawing is labelled ‘Tegg’s Nose’. That’s good enough for me,” said Gavin. “We need to go north from here.”

They drank more water, ate more nuts and then continued. There were no signs of the Children of Gabriel, or that anyone had ever been in these woods. The paths were overgrown and seemed undisturbed. Abby couldn’t help her thoughts skipping ahead as she trudged along. Once they had the tree sap she’d have to persuade Raven to fly her back to the ship, which might be difficult because the girl was barely speaking to her. Abby didn’t blame her; what she’d done to Raven was unforgivable, and she regretted it every day. It was one of infinite guilts she was shouldering. She couldn’t do anymore than she had though, and she didn’t have time to wait for Raven to come around. She’d just have to hope the girl could be persuaded.

In her mind Abby saw Marcus taking the tree sap, waking up completely healed and smiling at her. He would take her face in his hands and kiss her and tell her that he loved her, and forgave her, and everything would be alright. They’d go down to Sanctum, find a place of their own, and she would never do anything to jeopardise their relationship ever again.

She smiled at the image of Marcus looking lovingly at her, even though she knew it was a dream, wishful thinking at this point. “Wishful thinking isn’t good science,” she murmured to herself.

“What’s that?” said Gavin.

“Nothing.”

“I think we’re in the right area.” Gavin checked the map once again. “We just need to explore now.”

“Should we split up? It would be quicker.”

“I’m not keen on that idea. It’s too dangerous, and I don’t just mean from the rebels. There are all sorts of things waiting to kill us out here, I told you that.”

“Yes, alright,” said Abby, trying to keep her impatience from her voice. Gavin had her best interests at heart, she had to remember that.

They moved through the woods, trying to go in ever increasing circles so they wouldn’t miss anything. The leaves brushed against Abby’s face, branches caught in her hair, pulling strands of it out of her once neat braid.

“There!” said Gavin, grabbing her arm and making her jump. She followed his gaze, and saw a cluster of dead trees, like a Neolithic stone circle.

“Are you sure this is what the books meant?” said Abby. “Why would dead trees have sap in them?”

“I’m not sure, but there’s only one way to find out.” He stepped into the circle and Abby followed him.

Up close the trees were huge even though they were essentially stumps. They were the columns of a natural cathedral, a place of worship, and Abby could see how they had made their way into the mythology books. She felt awed by them herself, humbled.

Gavin took a hollow metal tube and a hammer from his bag. “I stole these from Ryker’s place,” he said. “I hope they’ll work.” He placed a tube against the trunk of one of the trees and hammered it in. “Pass me a jar.”

Abby handed him the jar and watched, waiting for the liquid to pour out. Nothing happened.

“I’d have thought it would come out straight away.” He tried another area of the tree, and nothing happened, and then another tree. “Maybe these aren’t the right trees.” He stood back, stroked his chin as he contemplated the problem.

Abby took the book and the paper, read the text closely. Everything about where they were matched the descriptions. She went up to the tree, put her hand on it, laid her ear against it.

“When I’m trying to ascertain if a patient has a build-up of fluid in their body I use percussion to find it. The sound is dull when there are fluids around an organ.” She tapped on the tree close to where Gavin had placed the drain, and it sounded hollow. She moved around, tapping in different places, her ear pressed to the cold, rough bark. Finally, there was a different sound as she tapped. “Here,” she said.

Gavin hammered the tube in and Abby held the jar beneath it. A few seconds passed during which she held her breath. Something dripped into the jar, a small orange blob, and then there was another, and another and soon they coalesced, and a thick liquid poured out of the tree.

“Quick get another container,” said Gavin, and he took over from Abby while she rummaged for another jar.

They filled the four jars Gavin had brought quickly. “Will this be enough?” said Abby as she screwed the lid on the last one.

“I don’t know.” Gavin hammered a plug of wood into the hole to stop the flow. “I guess we know where to come now if it isn’t.”

“Thank you,” said Abby, holding one of the precious jars up to the light. The sap was the colour of amber, and it was pure with no imperfections that she could see. Of course, there might be all manner of invisible microbes within it, were bound to be, but she couldn’t worry about what she couldn’t see. There were so few options left for Marcus. She had to risk it.

“Thank you!” said Gavin. “That was inspired, listening for it.”

“All those years of medical training have finally paid off,” replied Abby with a grin.

“That’s if it works.”

“Let’s find out,” said Abby, and she rolled up her sleeve then broke a branch off a nearby tree and dragged the jagged point across her arm.

“Abby!” shouted Gavin, a horrified look on his face as blood poured from the wound.

“Get the sap!” said Abby, holding her arm in the air so she wouldn’t lose too much blood.

Gavin opened a jar, let a few drops of the sap fall on the wound. It stung, and Abby winced.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay.” She watched in fascination as the blood stopped flowing and the wound closed up. After a few seconds there was no trace of it at all, not even of the blood that had flowed down her arm. “What the hell?” she said, shaking her head in disbelief as she looked at Gavin.

His face registered the same shock and surprise. “It works!”

“Yes, but how? It’s not just healed the wound, it’s like it was never there at all.” Abby ran her fingers over her arm. Her skin was smooth. She pressed the area; it didn’t feel bruised and there was no pain. “Amazing.”

“I can’t believe it.” Gavin rubbed his forehead, then took Abby’s arm and ran his fingers over it as though he had to make sure that his eyes were telling him the truth.

“People must have known this wasn’t just a myth, Gavin. There’s no way it’s gone unnoticed all these years.”

“They can’t have. If the Primes had known about it they would have told us.”

“Are you sure about that?” Abby gathered leaves and wrapped the jars in them to protect them.

“Of course.”

“They wouldn’t be the first leaders in history to keep things from their people, things that could be useful or dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“Not the Primes. They would have told us.”

“Okay,” said Abby, not wanting to upset him further after he’d helped her so selflessly. She was hundred percent certain the Primes knew about the healing tree sap. Probably wanted to keep it to themselves, protect the royalty and keep their subjects dependent on them. “We’d better get back. I have to get this to Marcus.”

They headed back the way they’d come, or at least the way Abby thought they’d come. It all looked the same to her, but Gavin seemed confident, and she trusted him. They hadn’t gone far when the roar of engines could be heard in the distance.

“Motorbikes!” said Gavin, and he crouched behind a tree, pulling Abby down with him.

“Who is it?”

“The Children of Gabriel. We can’t be seen.”

Abby’s heart started to race. She looked around for shelter. There was a large thorn bush behind them, but it would be painful hiding in that. The sound of the motorbikes grew louder, and voices drifted towards them, shouts.

“We’re too exposed here,” said Gavin, and he stood, looked around frantically.

“There’s a thorn bush,” said Abby. “It won’t be pleasant.”

“Better than being captured, or dead.”

Abby ran to the bush, pushed her way through into its centre, the thorns tearing at her clothes, her skin. Gavin gathered some fallen branches together, pushed them into the gaps where the vegetation hadn’t sprung back behind them. They sat huddled in the centre of the bush. They couldn’t see out, which left them blind to what was happening, but on the other hand meant that nobody could see in.

Gavin’s face was covered in scratches, and Abby could feel blood dripping down her own. She swept her hand across her face, wiped her bloody fingers on her jeans.

“At least we can heal ourselves afterwards,” whispered Gavin, making Abby smile.

The sound of the motorbikes grew closer and closer until it was upon them. Then the sound disappeared, but suddenly, not gradual as it would have if the riders had driven away from Abby and Gavin.

“Someone’s been here,” said a gruff male voice. “The ground is disturbed, and there is a broken branch. The cut is fresh.”

“It could be an animal, Gabriel. There’s nothing to say it’s human.”

“Our spies saw two people down by the lake then lost sight of them,” said the man, Gabriel. “They could have come here.”

“Only the Primes know of it, and they wouldn’t come alone.”

Gabriel took a sharp breath at the woman’s words, and Abby put her hand on his arm to warn him to keep quiet.

The woman was still talking, making Abby hopeful that they hadn’t heard Gavin. The man was quiet, though, and then both people fell silent. There was a rustling as they walked, and then someone brushed against their hiding place, and Abby closed her eyes briefly. Surely she wasn’t going to get caught now? Not when she had the cure for Marcus, not when she was so close to saving him.

The branches of the bush pressed inwards, and Gavin grasped Abby’s hand. She squeezed his fingers to reassure him, although she was far from reassured herself.

“Fuck!” said Gabriel.

“What?” said the woman.

“Thorns. There’s one in my leg.”

The pressure on the bush released. There were scuffling noises, then the click of metal, and two engines roared into life. Dirt sprayed against the bush, and then the bikes were gone, their engines fading into the distance.

Abby and Gavin sat in the bush for a couple of minutes, making sure the bikes had really gone, and weren’t going to double back and catch them. They crawled out of the bush, enduring more scratches along the way. Gavin’s hands and face were covered in cuts. He took the tree sap out of his bag, offered it to Abby.

“I don’t want it,” she said. “I don’t want to waste it on myself.”

“Then I won’t either,” said Gavin, returning it to his bag.

“No, you should use it. What will your wife think when she sees you like this?”

“I’ll tell her I fell, which is almost the truth.”

“I don’t want you to lie for me.”

“Sierra is...well she’s loyal to the Primes. It might be best not to tell her anything unless I have to.”

Abby looked at him closely. He was downcast, probably thinking about what the motorbike woman had said about the Primes and the tree sap. She opened the jar. “Let’s keep it simple, then.” She dabbed the sap on his cuts and watched with the same fascination as before as they healed up instantly.

“I think the smaller the wound is the quicker it heals, which makes sense,” she said, putting the bottle away.

“What will that mean for Marcus?”

“I don’t know. That it will take a long time for the sap to penetrate his wound, or that I’ll need a lot.”

“It will work.”

“Yes,” said Abby, dismissing her concerns, because the truth was she had no idea how or if it was going to work on Marcus until she tried it, and there was still a lot to do before she got that far, like get back to Sanctum without being killed or captured. It was pointless worrying about it now.

“They know we came to the lake, so they’ll probably be watching there,” said Gavin. “We’ll have to go back a different way.”

It took them three hours to get back to the city using a circuitous route that left Abby completely disorientated. If Gavin had left her at any point on the journey, Abby thought she would have died of dehydration before she ever found her way back.

They stood in the library, the jars of sap sitting unscathed on the table. So much promise in such small things.

“Thank you for everything,” said Abby. “I really can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for me and Marcus.”

“There’s no need to thank me. It was an adventure, and I think you’ve made me realise I’ve had too little of that in my life.”

“A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing,” said Abby. “Don’t dwell too much on what that woman said. I’m sure the Primes have a good reason for keeping the information secret.” She didn’t believe that, but she didn’t want Gavin turning rebellious and getting himself killed. 

“Perhaps, but it is not such a bad thing to have one’s eyes opened a little, maybe.”

“Maybe.” Abby reached up, pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Marcus thanks you as well.”

“He can thank me himself soon enough.” Gavin surprised her by putting his arms around her, hugging her briefly and then letting go.

“Yes. Yes, he will. Take care.” Abby rubbed his arm, then watched as he left the room. She felt surprisingly emotional when he’d gone. It had been nice to spend time with someone who expected nothing from her, who only wanted to help.

She rested her hands on the table, looked down at the jars of sap. She needed to rest, and then tomorrow she had to persuade Raven to take her to Marcus, and if she wouldn’t do it, then Abby would fly the damned ship herself.

End Part Two


	3. The Anomaly Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby and Kane are reunited as she tries desperately to save him.

[Kabby Chronicles Theme](https://youtu.be/Dr8KEeWjzV8)

Abby rose early the following day, having accepted that she wasn’t going to get back to sleep after three hours of restless trying. To have hope for Marcus in her hands and yet be so far away from him was physically painful. Her stomach ached and her heart was racing. She wished she could fly like a bird; just launch herself into the air and beat her wings and soar to him. She closed her eyes, imagined it, as though wishing it could make it so. It couldn’t, of course, and she had the much more difficult task of persuading Raven to take her in the ship. It was mulling over how to do that which had kept her awake most of the night.

Abby showered, dressed, brushed her hair and braided it into a side ponytail like she’d worn when Marcus had last seen her, so she would look the same. She wanted to look good for him. Familiar. Comforting. She gathered up relevant medical books and stuffed them in her backpack, then she wrapped the jars in the pillowcases from her bed and placed them carefully on top. Everything else she would need was already on the ship with Marcus. She took a deep breath, then stepped out into the sunshine. It was early, but she had a feeling Raven would be up, and knew where she could be found. Abby wanted to get away from Sanctum with minimum fuss, so it was vital she conducted her business with Raven quickly and efficiently. She knew as she walked towards Ryker’s workshop, that it would be easier said than done.

A metallic noise reached Abby’s ears as she approached the shop. That meant Ryker was up and tinkering with something. Hopefully Raven would be there too. Abby knocked gently on the door, but the noise of the hammering must have covered the sound, and there was no call to enter. No one came and opened the door. The hammering continued. The door was slightly ajar, so Abby pushed on it and it swung open. The noise stopped, and Ryker looked up, hammer in hand. He smiled uncertainly when he saw it was Abby.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi.” Abby looked around but there was no sign of Raven. Damn.

“Can I help you?” Ryker put down his hammer and stood up straight.

“I’m looking for...”

“Will these do?” said a familiar voice from the back of the shop, and Raven appeared, cradling a pile of screws and bolts in her hands. “I couldn’t find...oh.” She saw Abby and stopped.

“Hello, Raven,” said Abby.

“Abby.” Raven looked at Abby with the weary disdain she’d perfected over the last weeks. Abby withstood the look, as she had become used to doing. It was deserved, so she didn’t begrudge Raven her feelings.

“I want your help,” said Abby, figuring the best way was just to be straightforward and honest.

“Do you?” Raven put the screws on the workbench, sharing a look with Ryker as she did so.

“Yes. May I speak with you?”

Raven shrugged. “You are speaking.”

“I mean alone.”

Raven sighed the way Clarke used to when she was a young teenager and didn’t want to do her chores. It was a sigh of boredom, that signalled your presence and your request was unwelcome and irritating.

“Please,” said Abby.

“I’ll be in the back,” said Ryker, taking the decision away from Raven. He left, shutting the door behind him. Raven moved to where he’d been standing behind the workbench. She started sorting the screws and bolts into sizes.

“What do you want?” she said, not looking at Abby.

“It’s not for me. It’s for Marcus.”

Raven looked up then. “Oh?”

Abby moved towards the workbench, reached to remove her backpack. Raven flinched, a reflexive action, but the sight of it brought tears to Abby’s eyes. The girl was still scared of her deep down. Didn’t trust her, and why would she? 

“I’m just getting something out of my pack,” she said, a tremor in her voice.

Raven nodded, and Abby set the pack on the workbench, unzipped it and removed one of the jars of tree sap. She set it before Raven.

“This is a tree sap with healing properties. I’ve tested it; I know it works.”

“Where did you get this?” Raven’s curiosity overcame her annoyance with Abby, and she picked up the jar, opened it and sniffed the contents.

“From the forest on the other side of the force field.”

“You went outside the force field? How?”

“It doesn’t matter. The point is this works, Raven.” Abby picked up a knife that was lying on the bench. “Don’t be alarmed.” She ran the blade across her arm like she had with the tree branch, causing blood to well up and start to spill towards her palm.

“Abby, oh, my God!” Raven grabbed a cloth, moved towards Abby.

“No!” said Abby, and Raven looked at her with wide, shocked eyes. “It’s okay.” Abby took a small amount of sap from the jar and spread it over the cut. For a split second she wondered if it wasn’t the tree sap that had the magical properties, but the forest they were in at the time, and then the blood dried up and disappeared, and the cut healed until there was no sign it had ever been there.

“What the hell?” said Raven.

“Think of what this can do for Marcus, Raven,” said Abby, putting the lid back on the precious jar. “It can heal him.”

“How...how has it done that?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. It works, that’s all that matters.”

Raven didn’t touch Abby to check the wound like Gavin had, but she stared at her arm for what felt like hours. “It’s not even there. There’s no trace.”

“I know.” Abby waited, wanting to let Raven make her own connections, come to the same realisation she had, that they had to get this to Marcus. It was torture waiting, because every second they delayed was a second more that Marcus had to lie alone in cryo.

“You want me to take you to him?” she said at last.

“Yes. It’s not for me, Raven. I know I don’t deserve your help, or anything at all from you. I don’t expect you to do it for me, but Marcus is a good man. He deserves to live. He deserves this chance.”

Raven wiped tears from her eyes, sucked in her cheeks while she looked at Abby. “It won’t be easy getting to the ship. The Primes have it under guard.”

Abby put her hands to her face, let out a soft cry. Raven was going to do it. She would help. “Thank you,” she said. She held out her hand towards the girl, but Raven looked away.

“I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for Kane, like you said.”

“I know, and I’m grateful.”

“I don’t need your gratitude.” Raven went into the back room, presumably to speak to Ryker. When she returned, she had her own pack with her. “We’d better go now while there’s no one around.”

“How are we going to get past the guards?”

“I’ve got an idea.” She headed for the door and Abby followed.

“I’m sorry for what I did to you, Raven,” said Abby for what felt like the hundredth time. “I hope...”

Raven turned, glared at Abby. “Don’t! Don’t do that. Don’t say you’re sorry when you want something from me. Come back when you don’t need anything. When you’re saying it for me, not for you and what you can get out of me.”

“I’m...” Abby was going to say I’m not, but that wasn’t what Raven wanted to hear, and maybe she was right. Abby had to earn the right to say she was sorry, and clearly she had a long way to go before that could happen. “Okay,” she said.

Raven started walking again, out of the shop and into the sunshine. Abby followed, and they kept close to the buildings, not wanting to be in plain sight of the guards Abby knew were stationed outside the palace. She’d seen them earlier. One of them had looked like Gavin, but she hadn’t been sure.

Back down into the forest that clung to the rock, back down to the fields of green and red, although this time Raven took Abby through a different crop, one that was tall and hid them from view. When they got to the end of the row Raven peered out, looking left to right and back again.

“There are no guards here,” she said. “It’s a good place to cross.”

She went up to the closest tower, keyed in a code and the humming sound stopped. “Hurry,” she said, and Abby ran after her across the invisible line that both protected and killed.

Raven had a head start on Abby and reached the woods first. When Abby caught up with her, she turned her face away. She obviously couldn’t look at her. Abby closed her eyes, took a breath, nodded to herself. It was okay. She was the villain and was not to be looked upon. It was understandable. It didn’t matter. Marcus was all that mattered. Then she heard a sob, saw Raven wiping her face again. Abby stepped forward, put a tentative hand on Raven’s arm. Raven shrugged it off.

“Leave me,” she sobbed.

Abby was at a loss for a moment, and then she realised the problem. The boy. Shaw. They hadn’t crossed at the point where he had died, but the feelings would be the same. A traumatic moment for Raven. Abby didn’t know what to say. Sorry wouldn’t do because she’d already been told not to say it, even though these circumstances were different. There was nothing she could say. What a goddamned mess she’d created. So instead of taking Raven into her arms and hugging her and whispering comforting words to her like she would once have done, Abby stood awkwardly in silence and waited for Raven to compose herself. After a moment she did, and they continued on their way through the forest towards the drop ship. Abby kept a keen ear open for motorcycles, her eyes peeled for movement of any kind, in case the Children of Gabriel were nearby.

After an hour’s walking Raven stopped, crouched awkwardly, rubbing her injured leg. Abby had to swallow the desire to help her, to comfort her. She crouched like Raven. Through the trees she could see the ship in the distance. The voices of two men reached them, though the words were indistinguishable. “What now?” whispered Abby.

“Now I cause a diversion.” Raven took items from her backpack. A metal canister packed with paper and a length of material. It looked like a metal candle. “I’m going to move over there,” said Raven indicating to her left, “and I’m going to light this and throw it. The instant I do I want you to run for the ship. You remember the access code?”

“Yes.” Abby’s heart started racing, her pulse getting thready.

“Good. Get the door open and I’ll be right behind you.”

Abby tensed, raised herself so she was poised for running, then a thought struck her. “Raven. What if they’ve changed the access code?”

“Then we’re toast. You’d better hope they haven’t.”

Jesus! “Okay,” said Abby, because they were in this, and they were so close. Nothing was going to prevent her getting to Marcus. She picked up a fallen branch as Raven crept away. If she had to bludgeon one of these guards to get on the ship then she would.

Raven reached her position, looked back at Abby and nodded. Abby returned the gesture. She watched as Raven threw the device, heard it explode when it hit the ground, saw a bright flash. She looked towards the ship. The guards had seen it too and were running in that direction. Abby jumped up, ran like hell for the ship. She got there, punched in the code and the door opened with a hiss. Relief flooded her. She stood on the gangplank, looking for Raven. She couldn’t see her, and then suddenly the bushes in front of the ship parted and Raven appeared. She limped towards Abby and dragged her inside, pushing the button that shut the door.

“I don’t think they saw us,” she said as she put her hands on her knees, took deep breaths.

“So we have time.”

“Yeah, but not much. They might come and check the ship anyway. I’ll change the code when I get to the flight deck.”

Raven settled into the captain’s chair when they reached the deck, messed with buttons Abby had no hope of understanding. She’d been a fool to think she could fly this ship herself. “That’s the code changed. They can’t get in now.”

“Thank you.” Abby strapped herself into a chair, wrapped her arms around her backpack and hugged it tightly. She was on her way to Marcus. It wouldn’t be long now.

When they docked, Abby couldn’t get out of her seat quick enough. She was bouncing on her heels while she waited for Raven to complete the procedure and power down the ship. Finally, she finished, then they went to the airlock. Raven opened it and they stepped into the mothership. Niylah was standing there with a surprised frown on her face.

“Abby? What?”

“How’s Marcus?” said Abby, pushing past Niylah and rushing towards the cryopods.

“He’s fine. What’s going on?”

Abby ignored her. She heard Raven explaining the situation to Niylah as the two women hurried behind. Abby burst into the cryochamber. Marcus was where she’d left him of course. She sank to the floor, put her hand on his pod. It was more frosted than she remembered, but she could see him just about. It was strange looking at him, because somehow, even though she knew nothing could have changed, a part of her had still expected it to, or hoped more like.

“Marcus,” she whispered. “I’m here.” She kissed the pod where his face lay beneath the thin glass.

The frosting made his beard appear even more salt and peppered. His long, fine nose was almost pressed against the glass and blood was still dried around his nostrils and over his lips. She was taken back to her desperate attempt to save him, breathing into him even as his blood was pouring out. That situation hadn’t changed. As soon as she opened this pod they would be back at that moment. She had literally frozen him in time, as though she’d pressed pause on the video of his life. As soon as she pressed play it would resume. She didn’t know if it would be instant like on a video recorder, or whether it would judder and splutter and slowly speed up like in an old movie. Either way, there was little time left for Marcus.

“You can’t open the pod, Abby,” said Niylah, putting her hand on Abby’s shoulder.

“I’m not. Not yet.” Abby stood, put her hands on her hips while she considered her options. “As soon as we open the pod he will wake?” she said to Niylah.

“Yes.”

“And there’s no way to bring him out but not wake him?”

“As far as I know, once the protection of the liquid nitrogen is lost, the patient wakes, or returns to...whatever state he was in before.”

“Yes, yes.”

“Are you really going to use this tree sap on him?” said Niylah.

“Yes, but the worst of his injuries are internal. I can’t just spread it over the wounds like I did with my own skin.”

“I have made more algae. We may have enough for five minutes, ten at the most.”

“That may be all I need.” An idea had come to Abby. It was crazy; untested, of course. There were no guarantees it would work, and she might do further damage, irreparable damage to him. Was it worth the risk?

“What are you thinking, Abby?” said Raven, looking down at Marcus.

“Originally, I was going to do peritoneal dialysis on him. That’s done by introducing a cleansing solution into the abdomen through a catheter. The dialysate cleans the waste and aids kidney function.”

“Do you have dialysate?” said Niylah.

“It wouldn’t matter if I did or not. It takes hours to work. We don’t have time for that.” Abby started walking to the medical wing of the ship, followed by Niylah and Raven.

“I don’t understand,” said Niylah. “What are you going to do.”

“She’s going to introduce something else,” said Raven, and Abby was gratified to hear something that resembled admiration in her voice.

“What?”

“The tree sap,” said Abby, and she entered Medical, started rummaging through the cupboards for the items she needed.

“The tree sap? How is that going to help? What if it clogs up or something?” Niylah voiced all the concerns Abby had about what she was planning to do.

“He might die. I need you to set up a saline drip because Marcus will need fluids and nutrients when he wakes. Raven, look for Povidone-iodine, cloths and antiseptic solution.”

Abby didn’t stop to see if the girls were doing as she asked; she could hear them moving around the room. She had her head in a cupboard, looking for the catheter equipment.

“He might die? Abby, that’s...why are you risking this?”

“Because he is running out of time, and I am running out of solutions. It’s worth the risk.” She found what she needed, turned and put them on the table with the other items.

“Abby.” Raven put her hand on Abby’s arm, which was the first time she’d touched her or done anything caring in weeks. The gesture made Abby want to cry, but she bit back the tears. “We can look for another solution; I’m sure there is one.”

“There isn’t.”

“You don’t know this is going to work for Kane.”

“I do. I have faith. I have hope.” She caught the glance that Raven and Niylah shared but ignored it. Yes, the risk was huge, but she truly believed it was going to work. She could feel it in her gut, and her gut rarely betrayed her.

They wheeled all the supplies on a table to the cryochamber and Abby set up a makeshift theatre next to Marcus’s cryopod.

“We need to be quick and methodical, and we all need to know what we’re doing.” She went over each step of the procedure with Raven and Niylah, then she checked that all the equipment she needed was in the right order and the right place. Speed was of the essence. Maximum efficiency required. Marcus would be proud.

“Okay. I’m going to scrub in. After Niylah applies the iodine, no one is to touch Marcus except me. We can’t have an infection in the entry wound or peritonitis will set in. That could kill him and I don’t know if this tree sap can treat an infection like it does a wound.”

“Got it,” said Raven. She snapped on her gloves and Niylah did the same.

“Okay,” said Abby with a deep breath. Was she being reckless? Was she playing with the life of the man she loved? All surgery was a gamble. She’d faced this many times before, but never with Marcus. Never with the love of her life. “Let’s do this,” she said.

Her makeshift surgical team swung into action. Raven pressed the button on Marcus’s cryopod and the lid opened. He slid out, and Abby injected him with a general anaesthetic so he wouldn’t wake up even though his body was out of cryo. She put a feeding tube down his throat and Raven pumped the algae into his stomach. Niylah moved in, ripped his t-shirt, then swabbed his abdomen with the iodine. Raven carefully removed the feeding tube.

“One minute thirty seconds,” Raven said as she looked at the timer.

Abby picked up her scalpel, glad this was one of her good days because she could never have done this quickly with shaking hands. She made her initial incision carefully, and then began the delicate process of inserting the catheter.

“Three minutes,” said Raven.

Abby felt like Raven was counting down all their dooms. She wanted to tell her to shut up, because the pressure was huge, but it was vital to know how much time she had taken, and so how much time Marcus had left. When the catheter was in place, Abby opened the first jar of the tree sap. It seemed so thick now; it would take an age to drop down the catheter to where it was needed. She moved towards Marcus, and then his body started to shake violently.

“Hold him down!” she shouted, and Niylah held Marcus’s arms while Raven held his legs. Blood was coming out of his mouth again. Fuck! Okay. Ignore that. Ignore it because you can’t do anything about it other than what you’re doing. Focus on the tree sap. She tried to blank the image of a flailing Marcus from her mind and injected the first amount of sap into the catheter. There was no time now to worry about whether it would kill him. He was already dying. Raven was supposed to be helping Abby fill the syringes with the sap so Abby could inject them into the catheter without delay, but she was holding Marcus down, so Abby had to do it herself and it was taking time. She should have filled all the syringes beforehand. Damn.

“Five minutes,” said Raven.

“Fuck!” said Abby. Now they were into borrowed time. Marcus coughed and blood spattered onto Abby’s arm. She looked at him, then wished she hadn’t. The anaesthetic was working thankfully, so he wasn’t aware of what his body was going through, but there was blood everywhere. So much of it. Abby looked away, kept feeding the sap into the catheter. It must have reached his abdomen by now. She put her hand on it, tried to feel for the fluid. If she’d been using the dialysate she’d have wanted the abdomen to fill and swell. She had no idea how much of the tree sap would be required, and they only had four small jars.

What if it wasn’t enough?

What if she’d started this and wasn’t going to be able to finish it?

“Abby.”

Niylah’s voice broke through her desperation, and she looked up. “What?” she snapped.

“He’s stabilising.”

Abby looked at Marcus. The shaking had become more of a tremor, and the blood around his mouth and down his shirt was clotting. As she watched, it began to dry up, and slowly disappear.

“Oh, my God!” said Raven.

“Is it working?” said Niylah.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Marcus’s tremors subsided, and he became still. Abby checked his airway. He was breathing evenly. Had it worked? Had she saved him? She didn’t dare to hope. Not just yet. She injected more sap into the catheter. She wasn’t sure when to stop. She needed some for his bite mark and his stab wound, but they wouldn’t need a lot she supposed.

“Plug him into the monitor,” she said to Niylah, and the girl hooked Marcus up to the portable device.

Abby watched as his vital signs came up on the screen. Everything looked normal.

“Well, damn!” she said.

“Have we done it?” said Raven.

“I think we have.”

“God!”

“Let’s get the drip into him, and then I’ll bring him round from the anaesthetic. I guess that’s the only way we’ll know if we’ve truly been successful.” Abby left the catheter in place in case she needed it. Raven tidied up while Niylah administered the drip. Abby injected a drug that would reverse the effects of the anaesthetic, and then stood back and waited.

All three women watched the man in the cryopod. Abby’s heart was in her mouth. Someone slipped their hand into hers. It was Raven. Abby squeezed it, looked at the girl with tears in her eyes.

In the pod, Marcus started to stir. His hand twitched, and Abby went to him, grabbed it and held it. Then his eyes opened, and he stared up at the ceiling. Abby’s tears dripped onto their joined hands.

“Marcus,” she murmured.

He turned his head slowly, looked at her. “Abby?” he said, his voice rough, the familiar crease appearing in his brow while he tried to figure out what was happening.

“Yes, it’s me. It’s me. You’re back.” She kissed his hand, bent over him and kissed his lips, which were pink with life and health, and had no traces of blood.

“Have I been away?” he said with a faint smile.

“Yes, but I brought you back.”

“Okay.” He rested his head back, still looking at her. Abby put her hand on his face, stroked his cheek.

“I missed you. I love you,” she said.

He smiled weakly.

“Don’t try to talk, you’ve been intubated.” Abby said. “You need to rest.”

\---

Kane lay back and listened while Abby directed two other people.

“I’m going to remove the catheter and then we’ll need to put the sap on his neck and the knife wounds,” she said.

From his prone position Kane could just about see Abby moving around near his stomach. He felt uncomfortable in that area for a moment, and then the feeling was gone and she moved away. He wasn’t sure what was happening. What sap? The last thing he remembered was Octavia screaming at him. He must have had a relapse but why was he in the cryopod? He felt tired, and there was a dull ache throughout his body, like there was after his fight in the bunker. The remnants of his battle with Vinson, perhaps. He lifted a heavy arm to his neck, felt the bandage there.

“Don’t try to move.” Abby came back into view, her tense face looming over him.

“What’s happening?” croaked Kane.

“I saved you.” She smiled lovingly at him, stroked his cheek.

“Yes, but...” Kane didn’t get chance to ask more, because she disappeared from his view. He heard her talking with the others. He recognised Raven’s voice, and Niylah’s.

Abby reappeared in his line of sight. “I’m going to undo the dressing on your neck and apply something to the bite. It will sting at first.”

“Okay,” said Kane.

His head was gently lifted by one of the others, and Abby unwrapped the bandage. Her fingers touched his skin, warm and sticky, and she massaged something into him. It did sting, and made him jump.

“It’s okay,” Abby whispered.

“What is that?”

“A special cream. I’m going to take off the bandage around your abdomen now and apply it to your wounds.”

Kane was rolled onto one side and then the other as his dressing was removed. He caught a glimpse of a worried-looking Raven, and a line of crypods, before he was back looking up at the ceiling. Abby massaged the cream into different areas of his stomach and side. Her touch felt good, a familiar memory, although from a time that seemed long ago. It had been a while since they’d been intimate in any way.

“It’s a miracle,” said Niylah in hushed tones.

“It is a gift,” replied Abby.

Kane had no idea what they were talking about. He was starting to feel better; his aches fading, his tiredness dissipating. He felt like he’d woken from a long, deep sleep the like of which he hadn’t had now for some seven or eight years, or longer he supposed, if he added the time in cryosleep. How long had he been in this last sleep? Abby looked the same, if a little thinner, so it can’t have been long.

There was silence. Kane waited for someone to speak, but no one did. He was tired of lying here, wanted to get up, move around, find out what had happened.

“Can I move now?” he said.

Abby appeared, put her hand on his stomach, looked into his eyes. “Do you want to?”

“Yes!” said Kane, his frustration getting the better of him.

“Okay. Carefully, then. You have a drip in your arm.” She helped him sit, and Kane finally got a chance to look around.

Raven and Niylah were standing with their arms folded, staring at him with wide eyes. Kane looked down at himself. His t-shirt was ripped and hanging from his frame. He had his pants on, thankfully. Surgical instruments were scattered across a table next to him; a pile of syringes discarded next to two empty jars. Two jars filled with an amber liquid sat next to them. The cream, he presumed.

Abby put her arms around him, and his slipped around her automatically. She smelled of earth and iron and something flowery. Her hair was soft to his touch when he stroked it.

“You’re alive,” she sobbed, and then her hands were on his cheeks and her lips were pressed to his and she was kissing him. Kane didn’t respond at first. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to; he felt like he was on a delayed timer, and everything was happening just a fraction out of sync. It took him a moment to process what was happening. Then Abby sucked on his bottom lip and he groaned and her tongue was in his mouth and the kiss became deep and hot. He forgot where he was, all the questions he had, and sunk into her embrace.

When they parted and he took a breath he remembered Raven and Niylah. He looked around, but they had gone. 

He looked closely at Abby. She had scratches by the side of her eyes and her mouth; a long one running down her cheek. He reached up, stroked it gently. “Abby,” he said. “You’re hurt. What’s going on?”

She looked at him, her skin flushed and her eyes bright. “There’s a lot to tell you.”

“Then tell me.”

“I’d rather get you moved to a proper room, first. Make sure you’re okay.”

“I feel fine. Better than fine. I feel great.”

“It is a miracle,” she whispered.

Kane didn’t push her any further. He figured his best chance of getting the full story was to let Abby do what she needed to and wait. He sat patiently while she took his temperature and blood pressure. She examined the monitor he was hooked up to, made notes. She prodded his side, stroked his neck, shone a light into his eyes, listened to his breathing, tapped his chest and his stomach.

“Okay,” she said at last. “You seem fine.”

“Good. Can we get this thing out of me?” Kane indicated the drip in his arm.

“That’s giving you nutrients.”

“Please. I just want to get up and move around and be myself again.”

“Fine, but any symptoms, you tell me. If you feel weak, sick, start to sweat.” She reeled off a long list of possible things that could go wrong with Kane and he nodded and agreed to everything she demanded.

Abby unhooked him from the monitor and the drip, took the canula out of his arm. “Do you want to see what I’ve done?” she said.

“Yes,” said Kane, curious as to what this miracle was she and Niylah had mentioned. It wasn’t like Abby to use a word like that. She had faith in medicine, and the power of science.

Abby took one of the jars from the table and opened it. She put some on her finger, then rubbed it over the wound on Kane’s arm where the canula had been. He watched in amazement as the cut closed and the blood disappeared.

“What the hell?” he said, stroking his arm, prodding where the wound had been.

Abby put her hands to her eyes, wiped them, then rubbed her face. “I know. I couldn’t believe my eyes at first.”

“Have you put this on me? On my wounds?”

“Yes. It has healed you.”

Kane looked down but couldn’t twist himself far enough to see the area where he thought he’d been stabbed.

“Come with me,” said Abby, taking his hand, “Let me show you.”

Kane jumped down off the cryopod and followed Abby to a room with a bed and a table and chairs. There was a drawing of Clarke tacked to the wall, so this must be Abby’s room. Was she living here on the ship? Why hadn’t she gone to the ground?

There was a full-length mirror in the room and Abby stood him in front of it. She stripped the remains of his t-shirt from him and then stood next to him, watching while he examined himself. He turned from side to side, looked for cuts and scars but there were none. He looked at his arms. He still had the mark of the alliance on his forearm, and the scars from the crucifixion on his wrists. He traced them with his fingers, felt their raised edges, the story of his life they had written on his body. He examined his neck. The bitemark was gone. He looked closely at the rest of his face. His beard had grown wild and bushy, but he could still see the scars he’d got in childhood on his lip and his cheeks. He stroked his beard, ran his finger over his lip. Nothing had changed, except for what Vinson had done to him.

“What is it?” he said to Abby.

“It’s a tree sap. A miracle. I found it on the ground.” She ran her hand down his arm, making the hairs on it rise.

“You’ve been to the ground?”

“Yes. I was looking for a cure for you and I found it.” She moved in front of him, put her hands on his chest, kissed him there.

“Thank you,” whispered Kane.

“I couldn’t lose you. Not again.” Her lips were roaming his chest now, her kisses getting hotter and wetter.

Kane moaned. “Abby.”

“I missed you. I missed you so much.” Her hands slid up over his pecs to his shoulders then up to his face. She brought his lips to hers and they kissed passionately.

Kane put his hands on her ass, pressed her to his growing arousal.

“Yes,” Abby said, and she let her head fall back and Kane kissed her neck. Desire overwhelmed him, and he was frantic for her, desperate to be as close to her as it was possible to be.

He pulled her shirt and her vest over her head in one, bent to capture a nipple, sucking it while he massaged her other breast.

“Marcus! Marcus!” Abby groaned, and her fingers flew to his pants, unzipped them, pushed them down so his cock sprang free.

Kane stepped out of them, then he lifted her and carried her to the bed, laying her on it then kneeling over her. She was unbuttoning her jeans, struggling to push them down her thighs. Kane dragged them off, taking her underwear with them. He leaned over her, captured her lips. Abby wrapped her legs around his back and he pushed inside her. They both let out loud groans.

“Oh, God, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you,” she said, rocking her hips so he slid further and further into her.

“I’ve missed you,” Kane said, and they thrust towards each other frantically. It was sex born from intense desire and longing. From love and loss, pain and joy. A primal fucking that they both obviously needed. He was dead and now he was alive. She had done this to him somehow. The knowledge of that, the thought of what she was willing to do, in this moment was a turn-on. It made him love her and want her more than he ever had, if that was even possible. They came together, clutching at each other, panting and groaning.

Afterwards, Kane lay on his back, Abby curled into him, her head on his chest. He stroked her hair.

“I guess I’m back to full strength,” he said, his lips curving into a smile as he kissed her head.

“I’d say.” Abby laughed softly.

They fell into silence, Kane trying to regulate his breathing, Abby playing with the sparse hairs on his chest. The silence felt heavy with all the unsaid words between them hanging in the air. He wanted to pluck them out and throw them away.

Abby let out a shuddery breath against his chest. “I’m sorry for everything I did before,” she said, her words almost a whisper.

“There’s no need,” said Kane. “It doesn’t matter.”

Abby lifted her head, looked at him with the soulful brown eyes he loved and got lost in regularly. “It does matter.”

Kane kissed her lips. “It doesn’t. I know what you did, and why. It’s in the past.”

Abby sobbed. “I don’t deserve that.”

“Yes, you do. Oh, you do, Abby.” Kane pressed her to him, put his other arm around her and held her in a tight hug. “You are my world, and always have been. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I know you do. Let’s put the past behind us, start afresh.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am. We look to the future.”

“Okay.” She snuggled into him; her arms tight around him.

“Now, are you going to tell me the tale of this tree sap, or do I have to tickle it out of you?”

Kane stroked her side where he knew she was sensitive, and she gasped and squirmed in his arms.

“I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you. Don’t do that!” She laughed, then she rolled out of his arms, propped herself up on her elbow. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got plenty of time.”


	4. The Anomaly Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane and Abby return to an uncertain welcome in Sanctum. Kane has a proposal for Abby.

[Kabby Chronicles Theme](https://youtu.be/Dr8KEeWjzV8)

When Abby woke for the second time the next morning, Marcus wasn’t there. They’d made love again when they’d both woken in the early hours, more gently than before, taking the time to explore each other. It had felt new even though they were each familiar with every part of the other’s body. Starting again could do that, she supposed. It was good to be in his arms again, like the old days, when they’d first got together and couldn’t keep their hands off each other. A lot of water had flowed under the bridge since then, so much it was hard to believe sometimes, but it was gratifying to know that despite everything she’d done, he still wanted her. They were still together.

She rolled onto his pillow. It was cold, so he must have been up a while, but it smelled of him, and she buried her face in it. She’d kept calling what had happened with the tree sap a miracle, even though she knew it was science, like everything in the universe. It just seemed so unreal. She had got used to failure, perhaps, to things going wrong, to loss, to pain. It was hard to believe that good things could happen too. Even to someone like her.

She got up and dressed and wandered to the Mess. Marcus was sitting with Raven and Niylah, and her heart skipped a beat to see him.

“Morning,” she said, and all three looked up at her. Marcus smiled and stood, greeting her with a hug.

“Morning,” he said, kissing her cheek, his lips lingering longer than was necessary.

Abby’s heartrate picked up. “How are you feeling?”

“Great.” He pulled out a chair for Abby to sit next to him.

“Morning, Abby,” said Niylah with a soft smile.

Abby nodded, looked at Raven, who had her arms folded in front of her chest. She had her work cut out to resolve things with the girl. She was going to be a lot harder than Marcus had been. Raven had squeezed her hand, though, while they were waiting for Marcus to recover, so she had hope, however small. “Morning, Raven,” she said.

“Abby.”

“We were talking about getting down to the ground,” said Marcus.

“Oh,” said Abby, and disappointment washed over her. She’d been hoping to spend some more time safe up here with Marcus and without the interference of the rest of Skaikru, not to mention the Primes.”

“Raven has been filling me in on the people who live on Alpha.”

“They’re like a religious cult,” said Abby.

“Fascinating.” Marcus rubbed his hands. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

“Well, erm, I thought we might stay here a while first, make sure you’re completely healed.”

“We can’t hide up here,” said Raven.

“We’re not hiding,” snapped Abby. “Marcus has just recovered from a serious condition. I want to monitor him.”

“We’ll bring some equipment with us; you can monitor him on the ground. Other people need you, Abby.” Raven stared at Abby with challenge in her eyes. Her look said that Abby had neglected the others, focused only on Marcus. It was true, but it wasn’t nice hearing it.

“Marcus was my priority. That’s understandable, surely.”

“It is,” said Marcus, putting his hand on Abby’s arm. “And I’m grateful, but Raven’s right. We must get to the ground. Our people need you, and maybe I can be of use somehow. Maybe I can talk to this Russell Lightbourne, try and get to know him.”

Abby sat in silence because she didn’t want to say yes and put in motion their trip to the ground. She wanted to stay here, however wrong and impractical that was.

Raven pushed back her chair. “I’m going to the drop ship to do some checks. Niylah, can you help?”

Niylah looked confused but went with Raven. Abby and Marcus were alone in the Mess.

“What you’ve done is a wonderful thing,” said Marcus, taking her hand and kissing it.

“I just want to spend some time with you. We’ve been apart so long. Longer than just on here.”

“I know. But we’re not apart now. We’re together.” He stroked her cheek. “Didn’t we prove that last night, and this morning?” He smiled, his eyes twinkling.

Abby put her hand on his where it was stroking her cheek. She was finding it difficult to articulate her deepest fears.

“What’s worrying you?” Marcus said.

“That it will all go wrong. I feel safe up here. It’s like the Ark, before everything went bad.”

“I understand that. I do. But I want to feel the wind in my hair, Abby. I want to smell the grass and feel the sun on my face. I want to sweat in the heat and shiver in the cold. We’ve spent too long above earth or under it. I just want to stop and stand on it and be free.”

“I don’t know how free we’ll be down there.” Abby knew she couldn’t deny Marcus any of that, nor did she want to deep down. He deserved a chance to live, they both did. She was struggling to shake her fear that something would go wrong, because it always seemed to do. And the people in Sanctum were sinister, apart from Gavin. Ryker. One or two others maybe. Oh, God.

“Then we’ll face it, whatever it is. Together.” Marcus shuffled his chair closer to Abby’s. He pulled her into a hug. “I won’t leave you again.”

“Okay,” Abby whispered into his neck. “Okay, we’ll go.”

\---

Kane stood at the door of the drop ship, holding Abby’s hand. His heart was racing with nerves and excitement. He was longing to breathe the air of this new moon, to step onto solid ground, and inhale all its scents. There were guards waiting for them, though; Raven had spotted them as she prepared to land the ship, and Kane knew from long and bitter experience that they wouldn’t be a welcoming party. Abby had taken the ship from under their noses for one thing, and they’d be pissed about that. He was anticipating some rough handling as they were escorted to Sanctum. As long as they didn’t touch Abby he could handle it.

He bounced on his toes, stretching his calves; there was a long walk ahead and he wasn’t sure what such a long time in confinement had done to his muscles. The truth was he felt better than he had in years. He was what, fifty now, or thereabouts? He wasn’t exactly sure of the year, or the year it would have been on Earth. He felt ten years younger, more maybe. He’d proved that this morning in bed with Abby. He grinned at the memory.

“Are you okay?” said Abby, looking up at him.

“Yes.” He squeezed her hand. “Just looking forward to getting out of here.”

“I know.”

She breathed deeply as she turned to look at the door again. She wasn’t happy to be back here, and he understood why, but he couldn’t stay locked up forever, and as tempting as it was to live in a bubble with Abby, she was needed, and neither of them could be selfish.

“Are you ready?” said Raven.

“Yes,” said Kane.

Abby remained silent.

Raven punched the code into the keypad and the door opened. Kane put the hand that wasn’t holding Abby’s into the air, and she did the same. He wasn’t letting go of her no matter what the guard said. He wanted to take his first steps on this moon with Abby by his side.

There were four guards, and they held wooden spears towards Kane, Abby and Raven. Didn’t they have guns? They must have brought them from Earth surely; Diyoza and her crew had all kinds of weapons. Maybe they’d been unable to maintain them.

“There’s no need for that,” said Raven. “We’re unarmed.”

“You’ll forgive us if we don’t believe you. You stole our ship after all.”

“It’s our ship, and I don’t care whether you believe me or not.” She walked confidently down the gangplank and Kane followed, clutching tightly to Abby’s hand. He stopped when he reached the ground, took a deep breath, looked around at the tall trees. Everything was green, and bright. The air was sweet, and there was a cool breeze on his skin. He closed his eyes, held his face to the suns, enjoyed their warmth.

“Like our first time,” whispered Abby.

“Yes.” Kane turned and kissed Abby, which he hadn’t been able to do that first time, when they’d stood on Earth after enduring a terrifying journey to the ground. Abby would have hit him if he’d tried to kiss her then, despite holding his hand the entire way down. He wouldn’t have tried, even if he’d wanted to. He’d started to like her more by then, but not that much.

The guards stood and watched them, frowns on their faces. Kane suspected they didn’t know what to make of a girl with a sassy mouth and a leg brace, and an old couple who were more interested in each other than them. They must have assessed the threat level as low, because they didn’t manhandle them on the journey to Sanctum, or touch them at all.

Kane took in as much as he could of his surroundings as they walked to the city. It felt familiar, and comfortable, like slipping into an old pair of boots, but ones where the leather had tightened and cracked with age, so there was something indefinably different. A not quite fit. Everything was brighter than Earth. The leaves greener, the berries redder. The impact of having two suns perhaps. Abby stumbled beside him and he slowed to allow her to keep up with him. She always complained he walked too fast when they were patrolling Arkadia. She had long legs for a short person, but not as long as his, and Kane could cover a lot of ground quickly when he had the wind behind him.

They walked through fields of green and red crops, and up into a wooded hillside. The path was narrow and winding; the trees growing close. Kane could smell the trees: the woody bark, the pine sap. It was amazing.

“There are wasps in here the size of rats,” said Abby, looking around furtively.

“Really?” Kane was sceptical, although it wasn’t like Abby to exaggerate.

“Look at this,” she said, pointing to a large red mark on her breast he’d first noticed the morning after their night together. He’d thought he’d given it her in his enthusiasm.

“What is it?”

“A damned wasp sting!”

“That’s big!”

“Yes! You should have felt it.”

“I can feel it now for you if you like.” He grinned at her, and her annoyed frown turned into a smile, and then a full grin.

“Later,” she said. “If we survive this journey and whatever’s waiting for us in Sanctum.”

“Well, if we don’t, at least we’ll have gone out with a bang after this morning.”

“You were amazing,” said Abby, licking her lips unconsciously.

“I was.”

“That tree sap works miracles!” She smirked at him.

Kane smiled, and then her words sunk in. “Hey! Are you saying my performance before was lacking?”

“I would NEVER say that,” said Abby, and she arched her eyebrow as she moved ahead of him on the narrow path.

Kane watched her as she clambered over roots and stones. She was looking left to right constantly, worried about the wasps perhaps. She seemed more like her old self, the Abby he’d only caught glimpses of during the long years in the bunker, and then lost completely. She’d stayed off the pills he was sure. Her eyes were brighter, her skin less sallow, and her lips pink and plump. She was still thin, the bones of her hips and ribs pressing against his softer flesh when she’d lain beneath him, her cheekbones sharper than the stones they were stumbling over, but otherwise she looked healthy. It wasn’t just her looks, though, it was how she was. She had life in her, was teasing him like in the old days, and returning his passion when they made love like she used to before the drugs took her desire and her spirit.

She was back. His Abby was back. Kane’s heart thumped and something made butterflies flutter in his stomach. Hope.

Sanctum was a curious place to look at. Abby had told him about it’s colourfulness in disparaging terms, but he thought it was charming. They’d been too long living in drab conditions where everything was black and grey or dying. It made a change from the Grounders they’d met on Earth, who seemed happy only when they were surrounded by reminders of war and death. Surely a community who lived like this couldn’t be sinister, as Abby seemed to think. Or was that the point? Was the colourfulness designed to lull its citizens into a false sense of security? He was being taken to meet their leader, a man named Russell Lightbourne, so he supposed he was about to find out.

The palace was opulent. Disneyesque, Abby had called it, but Kane had never seen those movies, having no child and therefore no reason and certainly no desire so to do. Lightbourne and his wife, Simone, were dressed in flowing robes with lots of gold brocade and jewellery, as though they were members of some European royal family from a time long since dead. The original members of the Eligius crew who arrived on this moon were Americans, and so there was no precedent for such clothing, such pomp and majesty. They had designed it themselves, and so the only purpose must be to impress and intimidate. Maybe Abby was right.

“I am relieved for your safe return, Abby,” said Lightbourne as they stood before him, the four guards at their back.

“I was in good hands,” replied Abby, glancing at Raven who remained passive.

“An unauthorised trip, however,” he said, stroking his long beard and looking down his nose at her. His wife stood haughtily by his side.

“We are guests here, not prisoners, are we not?” said Kane. “So a trip cannot be authorised or otherwise. Abby is free to go wherever she wants.”

“Aah, the famous Marcus Kane.” Lightbourne stepped towards Kane, held out his hand. Kane shook it and was held in a firm grasp for longer than would be deemed polite. It was a move designed to show dominance; he’d used it himself when he was head of the guard on the Ark. He shook Lightbourne’s hand again, taking the lead this time, then flexed his fingers so the man had no choice but to release him.

“You are guests, yes, but some of your people have been abusing that privilege, shall we say. The guards are for the protection of my people, not for yourselves.”

Kane didn’t believe that for one second, but he nodded, having decided the best course of action was to play along with this man for now. Just because he was trying to exert his control over Skaikru didn’t mean a deal couldn’t be brokered that would have them all living in peace.

“Our people are not abusing their privilege. We’re not able to move without your guards watching us,” said Raven.

“And yet you managed to slip out, steal a ship and fly away,” said Simone.

Raven gave her a sarcastic smile in return.

“You are here now,” said Lightbourne, clapping his hands together. “A miraculous recovery I hear.”

“Abby is a remarkable doctor,” said Kane, and she glanced sideways at him, gave him a half smile.

“There is a rumour going around that you used a tree sap.” Lightbourne looked at Abby expectantly, but she didn’t reply. “Such a thing does not exist, as I’m sure you know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Abby.

“That’s the attitude I want to hear. It would be...unfortunate...if the citizens of Sanctum were to have false hope in something that is unobtainable. Cruel, really, don’t you think?”

Abby shifted from foot to foot next to Kane. She didn’t answer Lightbourne’s question. Kane looked at the guards lined up behind the Lightbournes. Most of them were straight-backed and blank-faced. One of them was staring at Abby, though not, Kane thought, in a threatening way. His brow was furrowed, and there was a blush of pink across his cheeks. What was that about?

“I was wondering how you found whatever it was you used on Kane,” said Lightbourne. “It would be a miracle in itself for someone with no knowledge of our moon to happen upon the right cure.”

“I read books,” said Abby. “In your library.”

“I see. And you managed to find your own way to the cure, without help?”

Kane saw Abby’s shoulder’s tense, and she held herself stiffly. The atmosphere in the room had darkened, grown heavy and portentous. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but it didn’t feel good. Abby clearly knew. What had she done to get the tree sap?

“One of your guards kindly escorted me across the force field so I could look for herbs.”

Lightbourne looked surprised at her candour. He must have been expecting her to lie or be obtuse.

“Yes, Gavin, wasn’t it?” Lightbourne turned to look at the guard who had been staring at Abby. So that’s what was going on. Gavin kept a stoic face beneath his long gaze.

“That is his name, yes.”

“Gavin didn’t have permission to take you out of Sanctum, though, did you, Gavin?”

Gavin was white now, all traces of pink gone from his cheeks. “No, Sir,” he said.

“He was being kind,” said Abby, stepping forward. “I was upset, devastated about Marcus’s condition. I begged him to take me across the force field. He didn’t want to, but he’s a good man, and I didn’t give him much choice.”

“I felt it was my duty, Sir, to look after our guests.”

“Your duty is to the Primes.”

“I believed helping this woman to save her husband would encourage her to look favourably on our society. She can be of use.”

Husband? Just what had Abby told this young man?

Lightbourne looked long and hard at Gavin. Kane wasn’t sure if he believed him. He wouldn’t have, if they’d been up on the Ark and he’d been the one interrogating Gavin. Abby was clearly covering for him, and Gavin was saying what he thought Lightbourne wanted to hear, but he didn’t believe it himself. Kane could see it in his eyes. Back on the Ark he’d have been forced to let Gavin go, in the face of little direct evidence, but he would have watched him thereafter, waiting for his opportunity. Lightbourne would probably do the same.

What a man he had been back then. Had he created an atmosphere of tension and fear around him like there was in this room? Yes, of course; it was how he’d got results.

“Gavin doesn’t know exactly what I found,” said Abby. “Or he didn’t, until you mentioned it earlier.”

Her sleight landed on Lightbourne and he looked like he’d been stung, his face squashing in on itself while he grimaced, and then he recovered.

Kane managed to supress a smile. He was proud of Abby; she was back to her fighting best. She and Gavin needed help, though, to get out of this situation. Lightbourne didn’t appear to be in a benevolent mood. He was obviously a man of self-importance, king of his domain. Such men were easy to satisfy if you knew how. Kane did know, because his old self had been a master at managing those who thought they were above him and therefore better than him. He could flatter to deceive like the best of them. He hoped he hadn’t completely lost the skill.

He stepped towards Lightbourne, spoke in a low voice as though he was confessing something, or sharing a confidence. The guards moved with him, their spears pointed at Kane, but Lightbourne held up his hand to stay them.

“I’m grateful to your guard,” Kane said. “And to you. I’m glad we have found a society here whose citizens are willing to help others when they are in distress. His actions reflect well on you.”

“Ah, yes. Of course, we encourage such behaviour in our citizens.”

“As you should, as you should. Your guard was right in one thing. My wife can be of use to you, and perhaps so can I.”

“Oh, yes? How might that be?” Lightbourne was interested, Kane could tell from the way he held his head as he listened. His eyes never wavered from Kane’s. They were an intense blue, and unnerving, but Kane held his gaze, and then looked down so as to acknowledge the other man’s dominance.

“I’m a negotiator, an ambassador if you will, or at least I was. I can bring Skaikru to the table. I’m certain we can find a solution that will work to your benefit, and to ours. We only want peace; I can assure you.”

The last part was all true, of course, although he wasn’t sure what kind of peace they could get with this egomaniac. The best Kane hoped for was to negotiate some land away from Sanctum, where they could build their own town, like he’d wanted in Eden. They could live separately and trade, or they could share resources, depending on Lightbourne’s inclination.

Lightbourne looked at his wife and then turned back to Kane and Abby with a sniff. “I shall consider your proposal. In the meantime, you are all confined to the same places as the rest of your people. If you try to leave Sanctum, you will be detained and will face our justice. This is for our security, as well as yours, you understand.”

“We do,” said Kane, and he took Abby’s hand. She glanced at Gavin, and then followed him out with Raven close behind.

Their guards took them towards a row of bright containers, and Abby stopped in front of one of them. “I’d like to go back to the library,” she said to the guard, who nodded.

“I’m going to the Mess,” said Raven. “I need a thousand drinks.”

Abby opened the door to a large room crammed so full of books and papers it seemed tiny. Kane could only describe it as chaotic. There was a large table in the centre of the room and he went to it. A notebook lay on the surface, covered in Abby’s spidery indecipherable handwriting.

Abby was pacing the length of one wall. “I’m worried about Gavin,” she said.

“Who is he?” Kane had been curious since he’d seen the guard staring at Abby, and now he knew they’d been working together, doing dangerous things, getting in trouble. It made him anxious, worried about what Abby had got herself into in order to save him.

“He’s one of their guards,” said Abby, stating the obvious. “He helped me.”

“Yes, I gathered that, but how? Why?”

“Why, I don’t know, you’d have to ask him. How is pretty much as I said. He found the tree sap in the books here, and then he took me to find it.” She was stroking a strand of her hair, twirling it round and round her finger. She used to do that when she was detoxing and needed a fix. It made Kane’s palms sweat to see it.

“I still don’t understand why. Are you sure he could be trusted?”

“Look, I was in a bad place without you, okay. Perhaps he saw that, and I don’t know, felt sorry for me.” She had that hard edge to her voice she used with him when she was annoyed, or didn’t want to answer his questions, be under his scrutiny.

Kane went towards her, pulled her into his arms. “I didn’t mean to question your judgement. I’m sorry.”

“It’s been hard, Marcus. I was lost without you.” She sobbed, and Kane held her tighter.

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

They were still holding each other when the door opened, causing them to spring apart. It was the guard, Gavin. Abby went to him, put her hand on his arm.

“Are you okay?” she said.

“Yes. Don’t worry.” His voice was gentle and his smile the same. His eyes were soft as he looked at Abby. Kane could see why she’d trusted him.

“I’m so sorry I put you in this situation.”

“You didn’t put me in it. You tried to get rid of me, remember. I chose to help you.”

“Lightbourne will be watching you closely now, you know,” said Kane.

Gavin nodded. “I know.”

Kane held his hand out to the man. “Marcus Kane. I’m pleased to meet you.”

Gavin shook Marcus’s hand firmly. “I’m Gavin. It’s so good to see you well. Abby told me about your injuries. You seem healed.”

“It seems that way. Thank you for helping her and looking out for her.”

“It was fun, even the thorns.” He and Abby shared a smile and it made something in Kane’s stomach knot. He wasn’t the jealous type normally, but he and Abby had been estranged for a while, and she’d shared something with this man that Kane knew little about and could never be a part of. He’d fulfilled a need that Kane could not. He swallowed the feeling down. He was genuinely grateful for Gavin’s help.

“I owe you my life,” he said.

“That’s down to your wife. She’s tenacious.”

“She is.” Kane smiled, and Abby put her arm around his waist.

“I should go,” said Gavin. “I’ll be seeing you both though, I’m sure.”

“You will.” Abby kissed Gavin on the cheek and then he left.

Kane took her in his arms. “What’s all this husband business?” he said as he kissed her.

“It was just the easiest thing to say. I thought he was flirting with me at the time. He wasn’t!” she added when she saw Kane’s raised eyebrow. “He’s married, so I said I was, just to be clear.”

“I see.” Kane kissed her nose, brushed loose strands of her hair from her face. “Maybe we should make that official someday, then.”

Abby looked up at him. “Are you asking me?”

“Would you say yes?” Kane looked into her dark brown eyes. This conversation had taken an unexpected turn, but he found it was something he wanted, something exciting. Did Abby feel the same?

“I would, yes.” Abby stroked his cheek, ran her thumb over his lips.

“How do we get married on this planet? Is there even such a thing as a celebrant or a registrar anymore?”

“Do we need one?”

“Not really. It’s a vow between two people after all.” Kane held Abby’s hands between his. “Will you take me as your husband? Will you be my wife?”

A tear rolled down Abby’s cheek. “I will. Will you take me as your wife? Will you be my husband?”

“I will,” said Kane softly. Their foreheads were touching now. Abby reached up to hold his head against hers, her fingers tangled in his hair. Kane held her arms, stroked the soft flesh with his thumbs. “Will you love me forever?” he whispered.

“Always. To the end of time.”

“I’ll always love you.” His lips met hers and they kissed, their arms wrapped tight around each other, their bodies moulded together. This was where he belonged. This was home.


	5. The Anomaly Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane and Abby enjoy the fruits of being married, but trouble is on the horizon

[Kabby Chronicles Theme](https://youtu.be/Dr8KEeWjzV8)

In his arms again; the warm, spiced scent of him surrounding her, his chest rising and falling beneath her head with every panted breath. She traced his nipple with her finger, stroked the scant hairs around it, followed them across his chest, down towards his belly where drops of sweat had coalesced into tiny pools. Marcus groaned, and Abby turned her head so her lips brushed his skin, pressing soft kisses to his flesh, licking at the pools tasting salt. His body was lean and supple, the muscles rippling beneath her tongue as she worked her way down. Desire grew in her, even though she had not long been satisfied.

“I can’t,” he whispered. “Not just yet.”

“It’s for me. It’s for me; I need it.” She swung her leg over his and settled on his calves. She dipped her head again, took the tip of his cock into her mouth and sucked, eliciting a long groan from Marcus. He tasted of their passion from earlier. The peat of the earth, the salt of the sea. She took her time, got him half-way, which was enough, and then she lay on top of him, rubbed herself against his length. He put his hands on her ass to help her.

“God, you’re hot,” he moaned.

Her breasts brushed against his chest as she moved, sending pulses of pleasure to her sex. She increased her speed, winding herself up until she was pressing down on his chest with her hands and rocking her hips against him. She was close, so close, so close. The tip of his cock pressed hard against her clit and she pushed down on it.

“Like that, like that, yes.”

His hand moved to grip his cock and hold it in place. She pressed down, her movements getting smaller and smaller until her hips were making tiny circles above him. Her world was reduced to this, to her desire, to her need to come. Marcus was breathing loudly, exhaling moans as she ground into him.

“Ah, yes, yes!” she cried, and sweat pricked out all over her body from the warmth of her orgasm.

She collapsed on top of him, her face buried in his sweaty chest. She felt his hand on her hair, stroking it softly.

“That was great,” he said, as though he’d been the one taking his pleasure.

“I don’t know where it came from,” Abby said as she rolled onto her back, which wasn’t the truth. It came from her guilt, and her love, and her happiness, but most of all from her fear. From this feeling she’d had since she’d brought him back; that what they had was precarious, and something would go wrong. She hadn’t paid her debt yet. Not fully. She wasn’t a person who believed in such things, and yet...

“Married love,” Marcus said with a grin. “I’d worried it would be downhill from here, but apparently not.”

Abby swatted his chest. “Not with us. Never.” She kissed him then rolled out of bed with a sigh. “I’m going to grab a shower.”

She walked to the bathroom naked, the knowledge that Marcus’s eyes were on her sending warm shivers up and down her body. In the shower she closed her eyes, tried not to think too much. She used the technique she’d learned when she was jonesing. Breathe in, then breathe the feelings out. They mingled with the steam of the shower and disappeared. It occurred to her as she breathed deeply that maybe she was swapping one addiction for another and had been all along. First the need to save Marcus, and now that had gone she was looking for something else. The man himself, perhaps, or the need to protect him, keep him alive. If that was the case, it wasn’t the worst addiction to have, was it? She pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind.

When she came out of the bathroom, Marcus was standing in front of the mirror in his boxers, rubbing his face.

“I should trim this beard,” he said. “It’s unruly.”

Abby moved behind him, put her arms around him. “I love your beard.”

Marcus frowned, scratching at his cheeks. “Hmm. I know, but I’m just talking about a trim, neaten it up. I look wild.”

“You’re a far cry from the man on the Ark,” Abby said.

“In every way.” Marcus turned, kissed her, rubbing his beard gently against her face. “That must be irritating for you.”

“Only a little.” In truth it was, but the thought of change made her anxious, even though he wasn’t proposing anything radical.

“I’m going to do it. Is there a razor in this place?”

“I don’t know. I have a scalpel.”

Marcus looked at her horrified. “I’ll slit my throat!”

“I’ll do it for you.”

The horrified look on his face didn’t disappear at her words.

“Erm...”

“I’m a surgeon,” Abby said. “I could probably trim a beard blindfolded.”

“Please don’t do it like that,” said Marcus.

“Does that mean you want me to do it?”

He took a deep breath. “Yes. Yes, okay.”

“I’ll need equipment.”

She pulled on underwear and a black vest and crept out of the room she’d acquired for them in one of the better containers. It was early, and no one was around. She ran to the library where she’d set up a makeshift surgery and got what she needed.

“Fill this with hot water and get soap and a towel,” she said to Marcus when she returned, handing him a silver bowl.

She set up her equipment on the dressing table, cleaned the scalpel and the scissors in antiseptic solution. It was probably over the top, but her training and experience were second nature, and she didn’t want to risk giving Marcus an infection if she cut him. It was the nerves kicking in again, that feeling she couldn’t shake. It’s only a shave, she told herself; you’re being ridiculous.

“Are you shaving me or preparing me for surgery?” said Marcus, wide-eyed as he returned from the bathroom with the items she’d requested.

“Hopefully there won’t be any need for the latter,” said Abby. “Now sit down.”

“Hopefully?” said Marcus.

Abby smiled. “Just relax.”

Marcus sat in the chair and she draped the towel around him. She stood in front of him, contemplating his beard. She’d never done this before. She’d shaved people, of course, to prep them for operations, but that was always somewhere hidden, where attractiveness wasn’t an issue. She’d cut Clarke’s hair when she was younger. It was just a case of putting the two together. She could do this.

“What are you doing?” said Marcus anxiously.

“I’m just visualising the final result. We need to trim with the scissors first, then tidy up the rest.”

“Okay.” Marcus pulled a worried face.

Abby leaned in and kissed him. “Don’t worry; you’ll be even more handsome when I’m finished with you.”

“As long as I’m alive, I’m good,” he said, smiling at last. He sat with his hands together in his lap and tracked her as she moved to the side.

“Look forward,” she said.

He did as she asked, and when she turned to look into the mirror she could see his eyes on her. Her skin warmed, and her pulse throbbed.

The trimming was easier than she’d thought. She used a comb to lift the longer hairs away from his skin so there was no risk of accidentally stabbing him with the scissors which were ones she used for her job and were as sharp as her scalpel. He had so many grey hairs in his beard now, and they were wiry, sharp as needles when they pricked her skin. She switched from side to side, making sure her trimming was even. When she thought she’d gone as far as she could with the scissors, she put her hands on his face, brushed the hairs upwards so any stray ones would stand out.

“Mmm. Nice,” murmured Marcus, his eyes closed.

“I know you like that.” Abby grinned, then ran her fingers over his lips, feeling the longer hairs of his moustache that grew unevenly over them. She’d have to shave those away carefully. “And that,” she said as he pursed his lips so he could kiss her fingers. She let him suck the tip of one into his mouth, then pulled it out. “Be good,” she whispered.

“You’re making that hard,” he moaned.

“What’s hard?” she said teasingly.

“You know what.”

“Hmm. Well, I’m getting the scalpel now, so I expect it won’t be hard for much longer.”

Marcus laughed, and opened his eyes. “I’m ready.”

Abby dipped the soap in the water and lathered it up, before spreading it over his face. She hovered to one side of him, her scalpel poised. “Shall I take it all off, turn you into the old Marcus? Like you were on the Ark?”

A small crease appeared in his brow. “Would you still like me like that?”

“Of course I would! You’re still you.”

“I wasn’t though, was I? I wasn’t me back then.”

Abby lowered the scalpel. “Who you were back then, and who you are now, they’re parts of the same person. They’re parts of you. They’re just you at different times, with different experiences.”

“I’m not sure that’s a comforting thought.”

“We were all different back then, doing what we had to, what we thought was best. Then things changed, and a good person takes their experience and uses it to grow. That’s what you did, and that’s what I’m trying to do, after, you know, everything that’s happened. You’re an inspiration to me.”

“Abby...” Marcus reached up and stroked her face. “I told you the past doesn’t matter.”

“I know. And so it doesn’t matter for you either. Besides, I always thought you were handsome, even when we were fighting, so beard or no beard, I’ll always love you.”

“Thank you.” Marcus sighed, and smiled. “I don’t think I’m ready to greet the world completely bare-faced. We’ll stick with beard.”

Abby nodded. “It’s comforting isn’t it?”

Marcus looked closely at her, before nodding his agreement. “Yes.”

“Like my hair,” she said, stroking it self-consciously, remembering how she’d hidden her tears behind it when she was with Gavin.

“Your beautiful hair,” Marcus said softly, taking her hand and holding it.

“Yes.” Abby sighed. “Okay. Enough stalling. Let’s do this.”

She turned Marcus’s head so he was facing forward then angled her scalpel and ran it carefully down a small section of his cheek, scraping away all the stray hairs, neatening the edges. She wanted to make it less thick, more like it had been when they’d first visited Polis, and he’d been so animated, so full of joy. That had been a happy time, briefly. She neatened his sideburns, and the hairs that were escaping down his neck. That left the area around his mouth, which was hard to do even with his head turned to the side.

“This might work best if I sit on you,” she said, smiling as his eyes grew wide.

“You’re welcome to, but I think you’ll find what was hard before is even harder now,” he said, arching one neat eyebrow.

“I’m sure I’ll survive the experience,” Abby said, and she straddled him, supressing a groan as she felt how turned on he was. “Keep still!” she said, as he moved his hips so his arousal pressed into her. She was painfully aware that there was only the thin material of their underwear between them. This was probably a very bad idea.

He was smirking at her discomfort, so she held her scalpel towards him in a shaky hand. That took the smile from his face. “I assume you’re quite fond of your lips?” she murmured. “Or do you want a scar to match the other one?”

“I’ll be good,” he said, putting his hands on her ass.

“That’s not being good.”

“It is. I’m holding you in place, that’s all.”

“Hmm. Okay, here goes.” She leaned forward, and Marcus closed his eyes. His breaths were warm on her face when she bent over him. She took deep breaths to centre herself, then teased the hairs away from his lips with the edge of the scalpel. It was precision work, and she got lost in it, forgetting her position, his arousal, her own desire. She worked slowly, carefully, until he was as neat as she wanted. Then she put down her scalpel, sat back with a satisfied sigh.

“You’re done,” she said, and Marcus opened his eyes. He removed a hand from her ass, felt his face, stroked the remains of his beard.

“It feels great,” he said, and then he moved her slightly to one side so he could see in the mirror. “Fantastic. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Abby ran her own hands over his face, testing the quality of her work. “Lovely and soft,” she said, and she leaned in and kissed every square inch of it.

Marcus moaned. “It was really hot watching you.”

“I know, I can tell.” Abby shifted so she rubbed against his cock and Marcus thrust his hips towards her.

“Are we going to let this go to waste?” he whispered.

“Definitely not.”

Abby reached into his shorts and pulled out his cock, watching his face as she stroked it. His head fell back, and he closed his eyes as he groaned. She pulled her vest over her head, then pushed her underwear to one side and positioned herself over him, sinking down slowly until he was buried within her. They both let out long groans of pleasure.

Marcus gripped her ass and she rode him, slowly at first because the chair was untested, then faster as she grew more confident. Her breasts were bouncing in front of his face, and he grasped them, then buried his face in them, rubbing his new, softer beard over her nipples, making her cry out with an exquisite pleasure.

“Oh, God,” she said. “That feels amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” he panted, and he put a hand between them, stroked her clit.

Their orgasms were swift after all the foreplay. It was Abby’s third of the day and Marcus’s second and the suns were barely up. They were experiencing a honeymoon period, she thought, literally, having been married only a couple of days.

Abby puffed out a deep breath and sat back, Marcus still inside her. “Wow,” she breathed.

“It’s like Polis all over again,” said Marcus. “I feel reborn.”

“You are reborn.”

“I know, but I feel younger, and I have more energy.”

“It’s having a second chance at life. I feel the same.” She put her arms around his neck, and he wrapped his around her back.

“We should face the day, I suppose,” he said.

“In a minute,” replied Abby, and neither of them moved.

\---

Kane stood at the bar, surrounded by familiar faces from Skaikru. They were holding an impromptu celebration of his and Abby’s marriage, having found out about it earlier when Gaia had heard them talking. He was holding something alcoholic but wasn’t drinking it. He felt tired; all his exertions from that morning catching up with him. You’re not as young as you think you are, he said to himself, stroking his beard as he remembered Abby shaving him earlier, and how aroused he’d been. He glanced over at her. She was sitting alone at one of the tables, nursing her own drink. She must have sensed his gaze, because she looked up, and smiled at him. Kane smiled back, his heart skipping a beat.

“How’s it feel to be a married man?” said Bellamy, clapping Kane on the back.

“Fantastic.”

“Are you shagging all the time?” said Murphy with a leer.

“John!” Emori slapped his arm.

“What? Even people their age do it, you know.”

Kane laughed. “Yes,” he said, looking Murphy straight in the eye.

Murphy grinned. “Good on ya.”

“Where’s Clarke?” said Kane, who hadn’t seen Abby’s daughter since he’d returned.

“Probably with the Primes,” replied Echo. “She spends most of her time there.”

“Oh. Why’s that?” This was surprising news to Kane. Abby hadn’t mentioned Clarke much, except to say she’d helped her with the cure for him.

“She’s trying to negotiate with them, trying to work out how we can live together,” said Bellamy.

“Ah, yes.” Of course she was, ever the leader. “I’d like to speak with her.”

“She might be around later.”

Kane nodded. “Will you excuse me.” He walked over to Abby, pulled out a chair next to her. “Are you not joining in the celebration?”

She shook her head. “Jackson’s there.”

“So?”

“So, we had words. He’s not speaking to me.”

“Nothing that can’t be resolved, though, surely?”

She sighed. “I said some things. They were more about myself than him really.”

“Time to put them right then, maybe.”

“Yeah.” She took a sip of her drink. Kane didn’t think she was in any great rush to heal her rift with Eric. What had she said? He would ask her, but they were in a good place at the moment and he didn’t want to bring her mood down further than it was already heading.

“When you’re ready,” he said.

Abby nodded. “What do you think of your drink?” she said, changing the subject deftly.

“I don’t know. I haven’t tried it.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t really feel like drinking.”

Abby frowned and looked at him. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes, just tired.”

“Tired? Anything else?”

“No, just an ennui, I can’t describe it.”

Abby reached across, felt his forehead. “You’re a little warm. Are you feeling nauseous?”

“No, nothing like that. It’s nothing. I’m just tired; we had a busy morning.” He smiled so she wouldn’t worry, but he was feeling more than tired. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was exactly, just a general feeling of not right.

“You’ll tell me if you feel...”

“Can’t keep your hands off each other, eh?” Murphy plonked himself into a chair next to them. “Kane said you’d been busy in that department.”

“What?” Abby looked wide-eyed at Marcus.

“Not like... I didn’t say it like that. Goddamn it, Murphy!” Kane glowered at the man, who was laughing.

“Relax. It’s what all married couples do, I presume.” He rested one leg over the other, relaxed into his chair. “I hear you’re Jesus now,” he said, looking at Abby. “Should I be kneeling before you?”

“I’m sorry?” said Abby.

“Bringing old Lazarus here back from the dead.”

His comment made Abby smile. “I’m no god,” she said.

“You probably are to him.” Murphy cocked a thumb at Marcus.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “I’ve always worshipped Abby,” he said with a sly grin. She smiled warmly at him in return. Murphy pulled a disgusted face.

“I walked into that one,” he said.

“Have you seen Clarke, John?” said Abby.

“Not recently.” He jumped up out of his chair. “I’d better go. Congrats on the marriage.”

“Thanks,” said Abby and Kane in unison.

“I want to tell her about us myself. I don’t want her hearing it from someone else.” Abby worried her lip and sighed.

“We weren’t planning on telling anyone yet,” said Kane, “but things have got out of hand. She’ll understand if she does hear it.”

“I know, and I know she’s happy for us anyway, but she’s my daughter. I should be the one to tell her.”

“Do you want me to go and look for her?”

“Would you?”

“Of course.” Kane stood up and was striding towards the door when it opened and the woman herself walked in. “Clarke!” he said, surprised and happy to see her.

She stared at him as though she’d never seen him before. News of his resurrection mustn’t have reached her. “Erm, hi,” she said.

“You didn’t know?” Kane said as he pulled her into a hug. She hung stiffly in his arms. She must be in shock.

“No, I didn’t.” Clarke wriggled out of his arms and looked him up and down.

“Your mom is a miracle worker.”

“Aah. The Kane problem. She solved it.”

Kane frowned at her choice of words. He looked closely at her. She looked okay, but there was something odd about her, something cold, distracted perhaps. “Yes, she...”

“Clarke!” Abby was rushing towards them, and she flung her arms around her daughter, kissing her blonde hair. “How are you, baby?”

“I’m fine, mom,” said Clarke.

Abby released Clarke from her embrace, and then she stood back, put her arm around Kane’s waist. “We have something to tell you, sweetheart,” she said, a slight tremor in her voice.

“Oh, yeah.” Clarke was looking around the room. She tapped her foot impatiently.

“Yes. Erm, Marcus and I... We’re married.”

Clarke looked at her mother, a sceptical frown creasing her forehead. “Really?”

“Yes. With everything, you know, that’s happened, I guess we thought there was no time to waste.”

“Right, yeah.” Clarke nodded.

Abby glanced at Kane, her look telling him she was as confused as he was at Clarke’s attitude.

“You’re okay with it?” said Abby, stroking Clarke’s cheek. “It’s been a long time, since dad.”

“Yeah, course. Dad’s dead,” she said, looking closely at Abby.

“Yes, but...”

“Then it’s all good.” Clarke nodded at them both, then headed off. Kane and Abby turned after her, and a moment later Clarke stopped, looked back. “Congratulations!” she said with what seemed to Kane like a false brightness, then she went over to her friends at the bar.

“That was strange,” said Kane as he put his arm around Abby.

“It was a shock, seeing you, and then I sprung the marriage on her. I should have looked for her sooner, told her everything in private.” Abby rested her head against his chest, and Kane pressed a kiss to the top of it.

“Perhaps,” he said, but he thought she was trying to convince herself to make her feel better. There was something not right about Clarke. He’d have to try and get her on her own later, find out what was wrong.

“Shall we go?” said Abby. “I’m feeling tired.”

“Yes, okay. Me too.” He took her hand and they left the rest of Skaikru to celebrate their marriage without them.

\---

Abby woke to darkness, and an overwhelming feeling of dread. It sat in her stomach as she lay in bed, making it churn. She’d been dreaming, but she couldn’t remember what it was about, just what she’d felt. Fear. Emptiness. Loss. She opened her eyes wide, tried to adjust them to the dark, but she was in a container room with no window, and all she could see were multi-coloured phosphenes dancing in the air. She closed her eyes, and they were still there. She concentrated, trying to make them turn into shapes. It was meditative; she’d done it often when she was in withdrawal.

A rough cough shattered the silence, loud in her ear. The bed bounced with the force of it. Marcus. The hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood up. Something was wrong.

“Are you okay?” she whispered, feeling for him through the black. Her hand landed on his skin, and he felt hot. Fuck.

“No,” he said hoarsely.

Abby turned to her left and flicked on the lamp. When she rolled back to look at Marcus her heart thumped and her stomach flipped again. He was sitting up in the bed, his head bowed. He looked up at her, blinking in the sudden brightness, and she saw there was a drop of blood on his lip. He coughed again, wiped his mouth. Blood smeared across the back of his hand.

“You’re bleeding! Oh, my God!”

Marcus stared at the back of his hand. “What?” he mumbled.

“Oh, God.” Abby felt panic rise up into her throat, making her gag. She swallowed the feeling down, but it didn’t help much. This was too like what had happened before, with Octavia. She leapt out of bed and ran around to Marcus’s side, leaned over him, pressing her hand to his forehead. He was burning up. “You’re hot.”

“I don’t feel well,” he said. His face was pale despite the heat coming from him.

“You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.” Abby ran back to her side of the bed, picked up her clothes from the floor and put them on. She went back to Marcus, pulled the covers back from him, saw there was blood on the sheet, and his pillow. “I need to get you to my surgery.”

Abby stuffed Marcus’s clothes into a backpack, put it on, then helped him out of the bed. His legs were weak and shaky, and he put his arm around her for support. “Is it happening again?” he whispered.

“I don’t know.” It was the truth. She had no idea what was happening to him or how she was going to deal with it. The last thing she wanted to do was operate on him in her makeshift surgery in the library. It wasn’t a sterile place, and she didn’t have everything she might need. Nevertheless, it was the only place she could think of to take him. She wasn’t going to trust the Primes with this precious man. Not unless she had no choice.

They limped out into the night. The stars were bright in a cloudless sky, which made it cold. Marcus shivered. He was dressed only in his boxers, but Abby hadn’t wanted to waste time dressing him only to take it all off again. She pulled him along to the library, opening the door and switching on the lights. She swept everything off the table, helped Marcus to lie on it. He coughed again, covering his mouth with his hand, and there was more blood when he showed her his palm. It wasn’t spraying out of him like it had before, but she had a horrible feeling it was just a matter of time.

She attached the monitor to him and looked at the readings with horror. His heart was racing, his blood pressure dangerously high. Whatever had ruptured inside him last time must have ruptured again. The tree sap had only been a temporary fix. Damnit! The best thing to do would be to open him up, find the bleed and stitch it up, but she was faced with the same situation as before. Too much damage, not enough time. There was no cryopod here on Alpha to protect him, no putting him on pause. She had two jars of tree sap left. They weren’t a long-term solution, but they’d have to do for now.

“I’m going to insert a catheter like I did before,” she said, leaning over him so he could see her gentle smile. She kept her voice light, confident, hoping it would be reassuring. He gave a slight nod, then his head fell back, and he closed his eyes. There was no time to lose. “I’m going to do it without anaesthetic. It will hurt a little.” Marcus didn’t respond.

Abby breathed deeply to calm her nerves and her hands which were shaking as she organised the equipment she needed. Now wasn’t the time for the after effects of her drug addiction to kick in. Please, no. She focused on the task ahead. Marcus was coughing more and starting to shake himself, but she ignored him for now. They’d been here before, and the sap had still worked. She filled syringes with the sap so they were ready, then she picked up her scalpel in her trembling fingers and made a jagged cut. It wasn’t her usual neat work because of the shaking both of them were doing, but it wouldn’t matter because the sap would heal the cut.

When the catheter was inserted she injected the sap via the syringes and waited for his tremors to subside like they had before. It took a few minutes, and then the blood disappeared from around his mouth and he groaned and tried to sit up.

“Stay still,” she said, and she put her hand on his chest to hold him down. He put his hand on top of hers.

“What happened?”

“You relapsed. I guess the tree sap has a time limit, I don’t know.”

Marcus swung his legs over the edge of the table, beckoned Abby to him. She went to him, stood between his legs and he pulled her in, wrapping his arms tight around her.

“You keep saving me,” he murmured, kissing her hair.

Abby let her tears flow then, all her fear and her worries and her relief flooding out and dripping onto his bare chest.

“Shush, it’s okay. It’s okay,” he said.

“It’s not okay,” said Abby, looking up at him. “If the tree sap doesn’t last more than a few days then we’re going to have to keep administering it, like a transfusion, or dialysis.”

“Can’t you operate, now that I’m stable? Go in, find the bleed and sew it up.” Marcus looked at her hopefully.

“What bleed?” said Abby. “I’ve just cured it. There’s nothing there to sew up, until the next time the sap fails, and it ruptures, and by then it’s too late.”

“It’s a vicious circle,” said Marcus, realisation making the colour that was starting to come back drain away again from his face.

“We’re stuck with using the tree sap every few days, assuming it keeps to a similar schedule.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He kissed her lips, smiled softly.

“What if there’s not enough tree sap, Marcus? What if we can’t get to it? It’s dangerous. The Primes know the sap exists and now Russell knows I know about it. It’s going to be guarded, and then there’s the Children of Gabriel...”

“Slow down, slow down.” Marcus pulled her to him again, rocked her in his arms to soothe her. “Do you have any idea why it’s not working? It worked on the outer scars; they haven’t returned.”

“I don’t know, but I guess it’s because it’s inside you. Your body chemistry is changing its properties I expect, reversing its effects. I could try to look into it, but their facilities are meagre here, it’s not like the Ark or Becca’s lab. I don’t have the equipment I need.”

“Well, I’m okay for now, and there’s nothing we can do in the dark. Let’s go back to bed and get some rest.”

Abby removed the catheter, used the sap to heal the incision, then tidied up the surgery with Marcus’s help. When they returned to their room she stripped the bloodied sheet and pillowcase and they lay in each other’s arms on the mattress in the dark.

They didn’t speak for a long time, because Abby didn’t know what to say to him. She felt like their situation was hopeless, but she didn’t want him to know she thought that. She’d have to go back and get more tree sap, take as many containers as she could find in Sanctum, take the whole of goddamn Skaikru with her if she had to. She was going to have to study it, find more sources, and do all of this under the noses of the Primes but without them finding out. Right now, in the dark, with the memory of him coughing up blood so fresh, it felt like an impossible task.

“Abby,” said Marcus softly.

“Yes.”

“I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone. You’ve given me more life in the few years we’ve been together than I lived in all my previous forty.”

“Don’t do this,” she whispered, her heart breaking, tears springing instantly to her eyes.

“I’m not.”

“You are. You’re saying goodbye.”

“No, no.” His fingers sought her face, turned her towards him, brushed the tears from her cheek. She could feel his breath warm on her skin. “I just wanted you to know.”

“I know.” She felt for his face, put her hand on his cheek like he was doing to her. “You’re the love of my life.”

He sighed happily, and then she felt his lips pressing against hers, and she blinked back the tears as she kissed him and showed him the truth in her words.


	6. The Anomaly Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby is desperate to save a dying Marcus, and together they make a life changing decision...

Two days later, as dawn was breaking, Kane, Abby and Raven crept through the sleeping Sanctum, tucking themselves against the walls so they wouldn’t be seen by the guards. They’d decided to keep the first mission to retrieve more tree sap small and exploratory, as they had no idea if the Primes were guarding the tree sap and Skaikru going there en masse were certain to be noticed. They went down into the woods and through the crop fields in total silence.

Abby had been quiet since the incident the other night and his heartfelt though probably misguided words about how much she meant to him. He had been saying goodbye, and of course she’d seen through him and it had upset her. He didn’t want to die without her knowing what she meant to him, how deeply he loved her and how much she’d changed his life for the better. But it had been too soon after the surgery, when they were both emotionally fragile. They’d made a desperate, clinging love afterwards, and since then Abby had been in mission mode: determined and focused, but he knew what was underlying it, what was driving her. Fear.

Raven motioned for them to stop and get down, and he and Abby crouched in the tall grass. Raven disappeared from view, and then a minute later she returned, beckoning them to follow her. They stepped out into the dawn and ran across the force field into the woods on the other side.

“So far, so good,” said Raven as they stopped to catch their breath.

“Trouble is, this isn’t the way I came with Gavin,” said Abby. “We were closer to the lake.”

“Let me see the map,” said Kane. He took it from her and studied it, trying to line up landmarks around him with those on the map. Abby had marked the tree circle, and he thought they were north of it. “Let’s head due south. Keep the sun to our left and we’ll find it.”

They walked slowly through the forest, Raven at the front looking out for danger, Kane at the rear, doing the same. The suns light filtered through the leaves; he watched it play on Abby’s hair as she walked in front of him, highlighting its golden streaks. Dew was on the ground, wetting his boots, and the air smelt earthy and sweet. A poem he’d liked as a young man came to mind, about the paucity of life if we have no time to stand and stare. Since they’d left the Ark he’d had few opportunities to just enjoy the earth. They were always fighting or trapped one way or another. What he wouldn’t give for a minute to stand and stare with Abby in his arms, and just to be.

He sighed, and Abby turned and looked at him. “Are you okay?” she said.

Kane nodded. “Just enjoying the view,” he said with a suggestive wink. She rolled her eyes, and then she turned back, a smile widening on her face. It was good to see her smile, if only for a moment.

They continued walking in silence, treading more and more carefully the closer they drew to the mark on Abby’s map. Raven held her hand up, and they stopped. She went ahead, and when she returned she huddled close to them.

“We’re at a grove of broken trees,” she said.

“That’s it!” said Abby in an excited whisper.

“Don’t get excited. There are guards.”

“Oh, no.” Abby looked at Kane, her brown eyes filled with disappointment. His heart sank. This was what they’d been afraid of.

“Can you create a diversion?” he said.

“There are too many of them. They have the grove surrounded.”

“We have to get to it!” said Abby, desperation in her voice.

“We can’t. The guards will know to expect us. They won’t be easy targets like the ones at the drop ship.”

Raven was right, but her words weren’t what Abby wanted to hear, because she frowned, and set her jaw in a tight line. “I’ll go up to them, explain the situation.”

“If Russell wasn’t bothered about you having access to the sap he wouldn’t have put guards on it,” said Kane, taking Abby’s hand. “They’ll arrest us and take us back to Sanctum.”

“Then we’ll find another grove. This can’t be the only one on this moon.” Abby shook off his hand and reached to pull the map out of the side pocket of Kane’s backpack, bending her head over it.

“There’s nothing marked on there,” said Kane, who had examined the map in detail.

“We could wander this forest for weeks and not find anything,” said Raven.

“All I’m hearing is negativity! Doesn’t anyone have a good idea?” Abby’s voice was rising in volume and pitch as she grew more frustrated.

“Quiet,” said Kane, as gently as he could.

Abby put her head down, looking at the map, her long hair covering her face. When she eventually looked up, her eyes were filled with tears. “Marcus!” she said.

“I know.” Out of the corner of his eye Kane saw Raven slip away, giving them some time alone.

“We both know what this means, Abby,” he said gently, and he pulled her to him.

“No, we don’t. We don’t!” Her face was so anguished when she looked at him that he held it in his hands, stroked her cheeks.

“We only have one jar of sap left. A few days at most.”

“No! There has to be another way.” Abby’s face crumpled, and tears spilled onto his hands where he held her.

“I wasn’t meant to live, Abby, after Vinson. You brought me back and you gave me more life, a chance to make things right between us. Thank you for that.” He kissed her, and she pressed herself to him, her lips damp with her tears as she kissed him fiercely. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging on it as she grasped at him.

“I’m not losing you again,” she whispered.

“You’ll never lose me. I’ll always be with you. In here.” He put his hand on her heart, and she dissolved into sobs. “Abby, I...”

There was a metallic click, and Raven came into view. “Sorry guys,” she said, and Kane saw a man appear behind her holding a gun against her back. One of the guards? No. This man was dressed in a kind of camouflage, and almost blended into the forest.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” the man said as he came towards them.

Abby turned to look at him. “You’re Gabriel,” she said.

“Who are you?” he said. “What makes you say that?”

“My name’s Abby Griffin. I’m from the sky people, and I was hiding in a bush near here a few days ago when you came past on your motorbike.”

“I knew someone had been here. That was you? What were you doing here?”

“I needed the tree sap for my husband.” She pointed at Marcus. “He was dying.”

Gabriel looked Marcus up and down. “He seems fine now. What are you doing back here?”

“He’s not fine. The sap didn’t work, not completely. It keeps failing. I need more, but the Primes are guarding the trees. They don’t want me to have it.”

Gabriel waved his gun at Raven to indicate she should stand next to Kane and Abby. He stared at the three of them. “Where are your weapons?”

“We don’t have any,” said Kane.

“All you sky people have weapons.”

“We only have jars for the tree sap.” He went to open his backpack but Gabriel pointed the gun at him.

“Give it to me.” He opened it, rummaged through, then handed it back to Kane. “You need to come with me,” he said.

He held Raven at gunpoint as he led the way through the woods. Kane and Abby followed behind. They could run, but where to? And what would be the point? Death was waiting for Kane wherever he went. Might as well follow this man and see what was in store.

“Who are the Children of Gabriel?” he said to Abby as they walked hand in hand behind Raven and the man himself.

“A rebel group. I don’t know much about them, but Gavin was scared of them. He said he might be killed if he was caught.”

“Because he’s a guard for the Primes?” Kane was more impressed with the young man the more he learned about him, although he still wasn’t sure why he’d offered to help Abby. Kane wasn’t convinced he was as selfless as Abby thought he was. She was a beautiful woman, and maybe Gavin had been attracted to her, married or not. Any man would be.

“I suppose so. Gabriel and his followers aren’t fans.”

“Neither are we, so that gives us common ground.”

Abby gripped his hand tighter, and Kane thought about how she would cope when he was gone. She’d always been strong, stronger than him, but the last few years had taken their toll on her mental health, and the spectre of the drugs was never far away, even though she was clean. He wasn’t arrogant enough to think she couldn’t live without him; if anything, he thought it more likely to be the other way around, that he would be completely lost without her. No, it was that she’d focused her recovery on him, made saving him the centre of her life, the reason she got up every day. That was fine as long as he was here and she could slowly wean herself off that need with him by her side. Without him, what did she have to turn to? What would get her through?

He decided he’d negotiate with Gabriel, once he’d got the measure of him. His early suspicions were that the man wasn’t going to do them any harm, because he would have done so already. Maybe he was planning on trading them back to the Primes, but Kane didn’t think they were worth enough, if anything. Abby was valuable, but they’d managed all these years with their own healer, so she was expendable, as was Raven who wasn’t the only engineer on the moon, and the Primes didn’t know what a genius she was. As for him, he was the most worthless of all. Failed leader. Failed diplomat. A man who couldn’t keep his lover from spiralling into despair.

Stop it! He told himself. He was letting his fear and his thoughts about his death cloud his thinking. He needed to be strong, confident and strategic if he was to secure Abby’s safety amongst these rebels.

After half an hour or so’s walking they came upon a small camp, with a camouflaged tent at the centre of it, and radio masts all around. Gabriel gestured for them to go inside. The tent was larger than it looked from the outside, but was still a tight fit with four of them crammed into it. He bumped into rusted oxygen cylinders and nearly knocked a lit hurricane lamp off a table that was covered in random objects. There were cogs and wheels, papers, old wooden boxes, bottles filled with coloured liquids. Kane ducked beneath a wire strung with squares of rough paper covered in drawings of geometric shapes. He stood at the back of the tent, clutching Abby tightly.

“What do you want with us?” he said, figuring they may as well get straight to business. He had little time to waste.

“More to the point is what do you want with us?” said Gabriel, removing his satchel from across his shoulders and putting it on top of a table entirely covered with the same rough paper as was hung from the wires.

“We want nothing from you,” said Abby. “I told you why I’m here.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t instantly believe everything you say.”

“It’s the truth,” said Abby simply as she stared Gabriel in the eye.

Kane thought the man believed her, probably had from the start, which was why they were still alive. He was figuring out how best he could use them, perhaps.

“Why don’t you take a seat,” Gabriel said, gesturing to some old army-issue camping chairs. He put his gun on the table next to him and sat in a chair himself. “I won’t have trouble with you, will I?” he said while looking at Raven.

“No,” said Raven. “We’re just here for Kane.”

Gabriel crossed one leg over the other, looked at Kane. “Please sit down.”

Kane nodded at Abby, and they sat in adjacent seats. “What are your intentions with us?” he repeated.

Gabriel sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t know yet.” He examined Kane closely with dark, curious eyes. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I’m dying,” Kane said matter-of-factly. “The tree sap is the only thing keeping me alive at the moment.”

“Marcus ruptured a vital organ when he was stabbed,” said Abby, her voice shaky. “I put him on ice while we made the journey here, but as soon as I took him out, the rupture bled. The tree sap healed it, but only for a short time. It bled again, and I used the sap again, but it’s only a matter of a couple of days and we’ll be back where we were again. We only have one jar left. I need the sap to keep healing him.”

“He ruptured an organ? An internal organ?”

“Yes.”

Gabriel seemed surprised. “You used the sap internally?”

“Yes I introduced it through a catheter and it started to work straight away.”

“Interesting. I don’t think anyone’s ever done that before; at least not to my knowledge, and I’ve been here through it all.” He stood, went over to another table and started looking through some old books.

“What do you mean you’ve been here through it all?” said Kane.

“Nothing.”

“I think the sap is being changed by his internal body chemistry,” said Abby, getting up and moving towards Gabriel. He looked up when she stood next to him but didn’t try to go for his gun. Kane thought that was a good sign. He could leave Abby with them, Raven too, if she was willing. He didn’t want either of them in the hands of the Primes.

“That’s possible. Like I said, an internal use has never been recorded before. This is unprecedented.” He looked at Abby with awe, and she smiled proudly.

Kane felt relief amidst his grief and sadness at having to leave her. She’d be in good hands, would be useful here, kept busy. He felt Raven’s eyes on him, and he looked at her. She swapped seats so she was sitting next to him.

“What are you thinking?” she said.

“I’m going to leave Abby here. With Gabriel.”

“She’ll never go for that, Kane.”

“She will, if you’re with her.” He looked at Raven hopefully. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she took a sharp breath.

“I don’t want to stay here! And Abby wouldn’t want to either.”

“You don’t have to stay forever. Just for a while after I’ve gone, be here for her. She’ll need you.”

“She won’t want me. We... we’ve not been getting along. She hurt me, and it’s not... it’s not simple, Kane.”

“It is simple, Raven. She wasn’t herself when she hurt you, and she loves you and needs you. You can either stay mad at her or you can help her.” He didn’t like being so blunt with Raven, because he knew what Abby had done, and it wasn’t something anybody could or should get over easily, and Raven had looked up to Abby, respected her. Abby hadn’t just hurt her physically. There wasn’t time for niceties, for persuasion, though. He needed action, and firm promises.

Raven sniffed, wiped away a tear. “Okay. I’ll do it for you.”

“No, you’ll do it for Abby. She deserves it. Her life isn’t just what’s happened the last few months, Raven. It’s everything she did before that, and since. If it comes to a day of judgement, you know which way the scales will tip for her.”

Raven sobbed softly and nodded. “Yes. Okay.”

“Good.” Kane sat back and watched Abby as she talked to Gabriel, satisfied that he was doing what was best for her in the circumstances. 

\---

Early evening. The stars were out, twinkling above them in a twilit sky tinged pink and orange by the setting suns. Sparks from the campfire they were sitting around jumped and danced in the air. Abby’s face was warmed from the fire, and her back from Marcus’s arm, which was tight around her. Raven sat opposite them, between Gabriel and the woman who’d been with him when Abby was hiding in the thorn bush with Gavin, whose name was Layla.

Abby and Marcus were sharing a bowl of some kind of stew. Abby didn’t know what was in it, didn’t care. It was warm and comforting and the nicest thing she’d eaten in a long, long time. Marcus wouldn’t take his arm from around her, so she was balancing the bowl on her knees and they were both dipping into it.

“This is lovely,” said Marcus, licking the back of his spoon.

“It is.” He seemed resigned to his fate, at peace with it, but Abby wasn’t giving up. She had no idea what she was going to do, but there must be something.

“I thought, perhaps, that the sap heals at different rates, depending on the size of the wound, so it’s not just the internal nature of Marcus’s injury, but also its size,” she said to Gabriel.

“That might well be true. It sped up the healing in your friend Diyoza but didn’t work so well on Octavia.”

Marcus’s arm tightened around Abby when Octavia’s name was mentioned. Abby was shocked that Gabriel knew her and Diyoza. “You’ve met Diyoza and Octavia? How do you know them?”

“That’s a long story, but Diyoza had a superficial external injury that was easily healed by the sap, whereas Octavia had a less obvious condition – premature aging – and the sap only delayed that, bought her time.”

Abby’s stomach did somersaults at his words. “That’s like Marcus and me,” she said, unable to keep the excitement from her voice. “It healed both our external wounds, but it’s only been a temporary fix for the more complex injury.”

“They do sound like similar situations.”

“How is Octavia now?” said Marcus.

“She’s healed.”

Abby sat forward. “Healed? How?”

“It’s not a solution for you and Marcus, Abby,” said Gabriel.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Tell me!”

“She went into the anomaly.”

Marcus sat forward too. “What’s the anomaly?”

“It’s a kind of magnetic field. It causes hallucinations and has an effect on anyone that goes near it, humans, plants and animals. I’ve been studying it for years.”

“And Octavia went into it and came out healed?”

“Yes, but...”

“Then that’s what Marcus needs to do.” Abby turned to look at him. “This could save you,” she said.

“Slow down, Abby. We know nothing about this.” He looked at Gabriel. “What happened to Octavia?”

“Like you she was dying, aging quickly, and she went into the anomaly and when she came back out she was healed.”

“Okay,” said Marcus. “That does sound interesting.”

“Don’t get carried away,” said Gabriel. “Diyoza went into the anomaly as well, and she didn’t come out. In fact, no one has ever come out until Octavia.”

“Oh,” said Abby, her heart sinking at this news. “Why did Octavia come back and Diyoza didn’t? Is Diyoza dead?”

“I don’t know why she came back. I don’t know what has happened to Diyoza; there’s no way to find out.”

“I want to see this anomaly,” said Abby, standing and dragging Marcus up with her.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Gabriel, raising himself to his feet as well. “It’s not going to be the answer you want to your problem. It’s more likely to kill him.”

Abby looked at Marcus, took his hands in hers. “What do you think?” she said.

“I’m already dying,” he said. “I don’t see what harm looking at it will do.”

“We want to see it,” said Abby, fixing Gabriel with a stern gaze.

He sighed. “Very well, but let me warn you, you’ll experience hallucinations as we approach; sometimes it’s your darkest fear, or your deepest desire, or both. It’s an unpleasant experience.

“I’m already living my darkest fear,” said Abby. “Bring it on.”

Gabriel led the way through the woods with Raven and Layla next to him. Abby followed behind with Marcus.

“We’re only looking at it,” he said. “No guarantees.”

“No, I know. But we have to see it. This could be it, Marcus. This could be a chance to save you once and for all!”

He nodded, but Abby thought he didn’t believe it, not deep down. No one had come out of this anomaly, but Octavia had. She’d been born on the Ark, like they had, unlike Diyoza. Maybe there was something in their blood that protected them. All the people on Sanctum had been born on the moon, subject to gravity and normal radiation levels. Skaikru were different. This had to be it, had to be the reason why Octavia had returned. If she had, Marcus would too.

He would come out again and they would persuade Russell to let them have their own land. She would set up a medical centre, and Marcus would lead Skaikru. She could see it. In fact, she could see him now, coming back out, smiling. He was running towards her, his arms out. She ran to him, fell into his arms. “I’m healed!” he said. “It’s a miracle!”

“Oh, God, Marcus!” He enveloped her in his embrace, and she breathed in his warm spicy scent.

When they parted she looked around, and saw they were in a large field, standing outside a brand new building, built from logs and mud. It had been painted white and was bright and clean. A sign hung over the door: _Arkadia Medical Centre_. Marcus was standing next to her.

“We did it, Abby,” he said, and he put his arm around her. “Doctor Griffin, are you going to open the door for the first time?”

“Yes,” said Abby happily, and she took the key Marcus handed her, and inserted it into the lock. She opened the door, and suddenly all she heard was screaming.

She looked around. Marcus was kneeling on the floor, his head in his hands. The sky was dark above, but they were bathed in a green and yellow light that pulsed around them. Abby fell to her knees beside Marcus, took him into her arms.

“What’s wrong?” she said.

He looked up at her. “Abby?”

“Yes, it’s me. I’m here.”

“Oh, thank God. I thought I’d lost you.”

“You haven’t lost me. I’m here.” She cradled his head in her arms, stroked his damp hair. Gabriel came and knelt beside them.

“It’s the effects of the anomaly,” he said. “Try to hold on.”

He pulled Abby to her feet and she helped Marcus up. She looked ahead. There was something like a whirlwind in front of them, swirling green and yellow, the source of the pulsing light. She could hear it calling her, promising her the medical centre, and a healed Marcus. She took a step towards it, and then a hand dragged her back.

“No, Abby!” said Marcus.

“It’s going to help us!” she shouted over the sound of the light, which was buzzing with electricity, like a violent storm.

“What if I don’t come back out?” said Marcus.

“You will!” The pull of it was strong. She knew this was the answer, could feel it in every nerve and muscle in her body. “I’ll come with you.”

“No!” said Marcus. “I’m not risking your life as well. Only one of us needs to die.”

“I’m not letting you go without me.”

“Abby,” said Marcus, tears running down his cheeks. “I want you to live.”

“I will. With you.”

Marcus shook his head. “What if only one of us comes out?”

“Diyoza wasn’t born on the Ark like Octavia was, but we were. We’re the same, you and I. We live together, or we die together.” Abby didn’t want to die, but she didn’t want Marcus to die alone, or to have to live without her, and if she was honest with herself, she didn’t want to live without him either, not if there was the slightest chance they could be together forever. They were in this together, always had been.

He worried his lip as he contemplated her for a long time. “Okay,” he said. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.” Abby turned to Raven, who was crying. “I’m sorry, Raven. I really am. You’re like a daughter to me, and I hurt you in a way I never thought I was capable of.”

Raven put her arms around Abby, hugged her tight. “It’s okay. I forgive you. It’s all okay.”

Abby sobbed, and held Raven tighter. “Tell Clarke I love her. If I don’t come back, tell her I’ll find her. I’ll look for her always.”

“I will.”

Abby took Marcus’s hand. “Shall we do this?”

He lifted her hand to his lips, kissed the back of it. “Let’s do it,” he said.

They walked hand in hand towards the light. Abby felt its attraction, its call, getting stronger the closer she got. This was the right thing, she had faith. Hope lay beyond this wall of light. Hope, and healing.

“I love you,” she said to Marcus as they drew close. “More than anything.”

“I love you too,” he said. “Always.”

They stepped together into the light.

\---

Abby woke as if from a deep sleep. She blinked and opened her eyes fully, expecting to see the field and the woods, Raven waiting for her, and Gabriel and Layla. She was standing in a wood, but not the one they’d left on Alpha. The trees were different; there were no pines, and the canopy was lower, the trees smaller. In front of her was a single railway track, and it was vibrating. A rumbling noise seemed to be getting closer.

She looked to her left, and saw Marcus staring at the same scene, his eyes as wide as hers must be. He was alive!

“Marcus!” she said, and she flung her arms around him.

“Abby!” He held her tight.

“We survived.”

“We did.” He kissed her hair.

Abby looked around again at the railroad track, the unfamiliar trees. A shout came from behind them, then another. The source of the rumbling became apparent as a train approached, black and compact, carriages rattling behind it. Steam rose from a chimney on the top.

Suddenly there was a loud bang, and the breath in Abby’s lungs was sucked out, the air becoming hot. An explosion rocked the track in front of the train, and there was the screeching of wheels against metal as the driver tried to slow the beast.

Marcus grabbed Abby, pulled her backwards. A man appeared, waving his arms in the air, followed by a woman.

“Allez! Allez! Cachez-vous!”

Abby looked around, confused, disorientated.

“Les Nazis arrivent! Allez!”

Marcus took Abby’s hand and they followed the man and woman as they ran away from the railroad, out of the woods towards a small wooden shack. The man and woman went inside, but Marcus pulled Abby around the back. They stood with their hands on their hips, panting.

“Where the hell are we?” Abby said.

“I don’t know,” said Marcus, “but more to the point, WHEN the hell are we?”

End Episode One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a short hiatus before episode two. Stay tuned...


	7. La Résistance Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on The Kabby Chronicles
> 
> Abby had used the tree sap to heal Kane's internal and external wounds from the stabbing, but later found that the effects didn't last. She went with him and Raven on a quest to find Gabriel and obtain more sap. Gabriel tells her that Octavia returned from the anomaly cured but also warns that Diyoza didn't return. Kane and Abby decide to take their chances in the hope that he will be cured permanently, and together they walk into the anomaly. They make it through, but it appears they're no longer on the same planet or even in the same timeline.

Abby woke as if from a deep sleep. She blinked and opened her eyes fully, expecting to see the field and the woods, Raven waiting for her, and Gabriel and Layla. She was standing in a wood, but not the one they’d left on Alpha. The trees were different; there were no pines, and the canopy was lower, the trees smaller. In front of her was a single railway track, and it was vibrating. A rumbling noise seemed to be getting closer.

She looked to her left, and saw Marcus staring at the same scene, his eyes as wide as hers must be. He was alive!

“Marcus!” she said, and she flung her arms around him.

“Abby!” He held her tight.

“We survived.”

“We did.” He kissed her hair.

Abby looked around again at the railroad track, the unfamiliar trees. A shout came from behind them, then another. The source of the rumbling became apparent as a train approached, black and compact, carriages rattling behind it. Steam rose from a chimney on the top.

Suddenly there was a loud bang, and the breath in Abby’s lungs was sucked out, the air becoming hot. An explosion rocked the track in front of the train, and there was the screeching of wheels against metal as the driver tried to slow the beast.

Marcus grabbed Abby, pulled her backwards. A man appeared, waving his arms in the air, followed by a woman.

“Allez! Allez! Cachez-vous!”

Abby looked around, confused, disorientated.

“Les Nazis arrivent! Allez!”

Marcus took Abby’s hand and they followed the man and woman as they ran away from the railroad, out of the woods towards a small wooden shack. The man and woman went inside, but Marcus pulled Abby around the back. They stood with their hands on their hips, panting.

“Where the hell are we?” Abby said.

“I don’t know,” said Marcus, “but more to the point, WHEN the hell are we?”

\---

The air was thick with smoke and the smell of cordite, and Kane took in great lungfuls of it as he tried to slow his breathing. The noise of the train as it careened over the damaged parts of the track was so loud and so screeching it hurt Kane’s ears, seemed to vibrate throughout his body. Abby put her hands over her ears and he did the same. He tried to think through the fog that had enveloped his brain. They had survived the anomaly, which was good. They were on a different planet, probably Earth as there were humans and trains and trees and everything seemed familiar and yet strange. If they were on Earth, then they must have travelled back through time, to before the apocalypse. Was that possible? It must be. The people had shouted at them in a language that wasn’t English. He hadn’t been able to make out what they’d said, but he thought they were speaking French. He took off his backpack, rummaged inside it to see if there was anything he and Abby could stick in their ears to deaden the sound but there was nothing.

The noise of the train finally stopped, thankfully, and silence descended, punctuated every now and then with a hiss of steam. Abby peered around the corner of the shack.

“The train hasn’t come completely off the tracks,” she whispered. “It’s kind of teetering on one side.”

“Are there people?” Kane moved behind her, peered over her head. The train was just a hulking black shape in the darkness. A small fire was burning in the grass next to the track, and from the light of that Kane saw a man jump down from the cab of the train. He walked to the front and stood with hands on hips staring at the track. He shouted something in a language Kane wasn’t familiar with, and a man appeared from the other side of the train. They conversed, gesticulating at each other and at the track.

“What’s going on?” said Abby, turning to look at Kane.

“I don’t know. You’re not hurt, are you? Do you feel okay?” He held her face, tried to look into her eyes.

“I’m fine. How are YOU feeling?”

“I feel great.”

“No sickness or anything?”

“No.”

“You were like that before, though. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.” She took off her backpack, rummaged inside it. “The jars are intact,” she said, holding up one of the last two jars of the precious tree sap they had.

“Hopefully, I’ve been healed, and we won’t need that.”

“Let’s hope.” She reached up and kissed his lips. He put his arms around her, and it still felt so new this, after everything they’d been through, and he forgot where he was for a moment, buried his face in her hair, breathed her in.

The snick of a gun being cocked surprised him, and he held Abby tighter as he looked up to see the man and woman who’d shouted at them earlier staring at them out of the darkness. It was the woman who was pointing the gun, and she took a step closer so that the muzzle of the gun was against the side of Kane’s head. Abby looked up and let out a soft cry.

“It’s okay,” said Kane, hoping that saving them before meant the couple were being cautious rather than meaning to kill them.

“Qui êtes vous?” said the woman, which Kane figured meant she wanted to know who they were, which was the first question he would ask seeing as they’d appeared from nowhere.

“Do you speak English?” said Kane, because there was no way his rudimentary French was going to sustain a long conversation. “Parle anglais?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Marcus Kane, this is my wife, Abby, erm, Griffin.” He realised they hadn’t discussed their married name, which was an unnecessary thought to be having at this moment, but these were strange times.

“You are English?”

“No, we’re...” What was he? An Arkadian, but he couldn’t exactly say that because these people wouldn’t know what that was, because the Ark didn’t exist yet.

“American,” said Abby. “We’re American.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Where is here, exactly?” said Kane.

The woman frowned, and the gun was pressed more firmly against his skin.

“How can you not know where you are?”

“We just arrived, and we don’t think we’re where we’re supposed to be,” said Abby.

“Ah,” said the man. “You parachute in? You come from a plane?”

“Yes,” said Kane, going with the flow. “I think we landed off course.”

“You are in Fontainebleau.”

“Is that near Paris?” said Kane, ignoring Abby’s warning squeeze.

The man and woman exchanged a look. “You are a long way from Paris, about seventy kilometres. Is that where you were supposed to be dropped?”

“Yes, but we had engine trouble and we had to bail out.”

“I see.” The woman clicked the safety back on the gun, dropped her hand to her side. “I’m Marianne Renaud, this is Arnaud Joubert.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Kane and Abby shook hands with Marianne and Arnaud.

“Was this your work?” said Abby, gesturing to the derailed train.

Marianne grinned. “Oui. It went well, no? They will be a long time fixing the tracks.”

“You did a great job,” said Abby, smiling warmly at Marianne.

“Merci. We had better go before they see us.”

“We don’t know where to go,” said Kane as Marianne and Arnaud started to head away from the shack and into the woods beyond. “I lost my bag and it had our maps and equipment in it.” He was glad now that he’d removed his backpack and left it behind the shack. It provided a good reason for their predicament.

“Don’t worry, we will help you. We’re all in this together after all. We will get you on the road to Paris.”

“Vive la résistance!” said Arnaud, a little too loud for Kane’s liking.

“Vive la résistance,” he mumbled as he grabbed Abby’s hand and stumbled blindly in the dark after Marianne and Arnaud.

“What the hell have we got ourselves into?” whispered Abby.

“I don’t know, but we need to remember this shack and find out exactly where it is on a map.”

“Why?”

“So we can find the anomaly again.”

“Because there must be one here as we came through it,” said Abby.

“Yes, and I’m assuming if we came out of it, we can jump back in it.”

“And go where?”

“I don’t know, but somewhere we aren’t caught in between Nazis and French resistance fighters!”

“This is crazy!” said Abby with a nervous laugh.

“I know. We just have to do what we can, think on our feet.”

“You’re good at that.”

“So are you. We’ll be fine.” He looked at her, barely able to make out her face now that they were deep in the woods. She looked up at him and he smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “We’ve been through worse.”

Her laugh this time had genuine mirth in it, and it made Kane grin manically in the darkness.

\---

“How many missions have you done?” said Abby as she took a bowl of some kind of potage from Marianne and passed it to Marcus before taking one for herself. They were sitting around a huge old wooden table in the kitchen of a dilapidated farmhouse. The only warmth in the room came from the range and a small fire that had been lit inside an enormous stone fireplace. It was dark as the windows were shuttered and there was no electricity so the room was lit by candles and firelight. Abby had endured worse conditions, so it seemed relatively luxurious.

“This is our fourth sabotage mission. We’ve attacked a road and two railway depots,” replied Marianne.

“And the aim is to disrupt supplies not to kill?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t cry over a dead Nazi but killing them only brings retaliation on the local people, and it’s always far worse than the original crime.”

“I know,” said Abby. “There were many atrocities committed.”

Marianne frowned. “You have seen these acts? You have heard of them?”

Crap! It was so easy to forget that the Second World War wasn’t history to these people like it was to her and Marcus. They didn’t know what happened or how it would end. “Erm, I heard things in London while we were, erm, preparing for our mission.”

“London knows?” A smile spread across Marianne’s face. “That’s good. That’s good.”

“Yes, London knows everything.” Abby glanced at Marcus who shook his head as though to acknowledge the surrealness of what they were dealing with here.

“We don’t get many Americans helping us; most of them were kicked out of the country in 1941,” said Arnaud.

“Abby and I are dual British-American citizens,” said Marcus. “Our mission is very undercover. Top secret. We weren’t supposed to be seen.”

“What is it you British say about the best laid plans of mice and men...” Arnaud and Marianne laughed, but Abby didn’t know the phrase they were referencing and neither did Marcus by the look on his face.

“It all goes to merde,” he said tentatively, and Marianne and Arnaud laughed again.

“It does! It does. C'est vrai.” Marianne smiled at Abby and Marcus. “Not today, though. Today went well. We should make a toast.” She held up her mug of red wine. “Santé!”

“Santé!” chorused everyone.

“Fuck the Nazis!” cried Arnaud, and there was another round of mugs clinking.

“Will they come looking for you?” said Abby.

“Not the men from the train, they will be too busy organising help to repair the track,” said Marianne. “They might send some SS Officers, but we’ll be gone by then.”

“Do you have another mission organised?” said Marcus as he finished his soup.

“We will find out when we get back to Paris.”

“So that’s where you’re going next, Paris?” said Abby.

“Yes. And you are coming with us!”

Abby exchanged a look with Marcus that told her he was thinking the same thing she was. There was no way they could go to Paris; it was too far from the anomaly. How would they get back? “We, erm, we couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Nonsense! Your mission is in Paris, we are going to Paris. Voilà! It makes sense, no?”

“Yes, of course, yes, it makes sense.” Abby looked at Marcus again but there was nothing he could say, not here, not now. “That’s so kind of you, thank you.”

“We are all on the same side.” Marianne stood and cleared the dishes, dumping them next to the huge old porcelain sink. “Time to rest, I think. We will leave in the morning.”

“I’ll wash the dishes,” said Abby.

“No. Arnaud will do it. It’s the only thing he does around here.” She nudged the man playfully and he shrugged but got up and went to the sink.

“I will show you to your room.”

Marianne gave Marcus a candle in a carved wooden holder and then led the way up steep stairs to a room Abby thought was at the back of the farmhouse although it was disorientating in the virtual dark. She opened the door and they went inside. The room was large, with shuttered windows and an old brass-framed bed against one wall. The paint was peeling off the walls, but it looked in the half light as though it had once been blue.

“You don’t mind some rough, eh Marcus?” said Marianne, pronouncing his name Marcoos. “Not what you Americans are used to.”

“Oh, we’ve stayed in a lot worse places,” replied Marcus, turning slowly so the light from his candle showed up every corner of the room. The only furniture apart from the bed was a cabinet next to it, a sink with a mirror above it, and a large wooden cupboard against the far wall.

“You will need to shave your beard, Marcus. It is not a style worn in France, not even in Paris. I’m surprised your handler didn’t tell you this.”

“Well, like I said, we were supposed to operate unseen, but it is a failing, yes,” Marcus said, stroking his beard.

“I will bring you Arnaud’s razor.” She left and came back a minute later with a cutthroat razor and a brush.

“Thank you,” said Abby. “Goodnight.”

“Bonne nuit. Sleep well.”

Marianne left again, closing the door behind her. Abby sat on the bed, which creaked beneath her weight. Marcus placed the candle on the cabinet and sat next to her. He put his arm around her and they kissed.

“How are we going to get out of going to Paris?” said Abby.

“I don’t know. I’m amazed they’re not more suspicious of us as it is. If we don’t go, they might think we’re traitors or spies.”

“Such people didn’t fare well during the Second World War.”

“They don’t anywhere,” said Marcus, and Abby put her hand on his, remembering when Octavia had accused them of being traitors what seemed like a hundred lifetimes ago.

“I guess we just go with the flow. We can’t go back to the anomaly for a few days anyway probably – the Nazis will be there fixing the track.”

“True, and seventy kilometres isn’t too far. Three days walk at the most. We can try and get some supplies in Paris and then come back.”

“I have some protein bars and nuts and berries in my bag from Alpha,” said Abby, and she spread the contents of her backpack carefully onto the bed. The jars of sap were still okay. She picked one up, caressed it. “Precious,” she said, looking at Marcus.

“What if we need it and we can’t find any here?” he said, voicing the concern she’d had since before they’d jumped into the anomaly.

“They might have different medicines here, and there are hospitals with proper equipment.” It was a lame answer and they both knew it, but Abby was all out of suggestions.

“Yes,” said Marcus. “I won’t need it, so it won’t be an issue.”

“Here’s the food, and I have some other basic supplies, a medical kit, a torch, some water.” She put each item back in her backpack as she mentioned it. There was something else on the bed, it looked like a stone. She picked it up, turned it over in her hands. It was smooth and there was a picture on one side, something she recognised as a logarithmic spiral. “I don’t remember packing this,” she said, showing the stone to Marcus.

He took it and examined it. “What is it?”

“I don’t know, but I saw the symbol at Gabriel’s camp. He had a lot of drawings of it.”

“Maybe he put it in your bag.”

“He must have, but why?”

Marcus shrugged. “I don’t know.” He put the stone in Abby’s bag then put the bag on the floor. He caressed her cheek, smiling lovingly at her. “You know, Mrs Kane, we are technically still on our honeymoon.”

“Mrs Kane?” said Abby with a wry smile. “Why can’t you be Mr Griffin?”

Marcus gave her a strange look and Abby realised the implications of what she’d suggested. No man would want to be called the name of a former husband, especially given their history. “Yeah, bad idea,” she said. “Not Griffin.”

“We could hyphenate, become Griffin-Kanes.”

“That’s a mouthful.”

“Yeah, besides, I fell in love with Abby Griffin. I can’t imagine her with another name.” Marcus pulled the zipper down on Abby’s jacket, started to peel it from her shoulders.

“We stay the same, then,” she whispered, pulling his sweater over his head.

“Yes, but I insist on calling you my wife at every opportunity.” Marcus did the same with Abby’s vest top, pulling it over her head so that her breasts were revealed.

“I’m happy with that.” Abby unbuttoned his pants, and he got off the bed so he could pull them and his underpants off in one fell swoop. She lay back on the bed so he could pull down her jeans and then sat back up when they were both naked, swinging her leg over him so she was straddling him. He put his hands on her ass, lifted her so she was hovering above his cock.

“Will you call me your husband?” he said, holding her in place, his arms starting to shake with the effort of it.

“You’re my wonderful husband,” she murmured, and he moaned before guiding her onto his cock so she sank down onto it and they both sighed.

“I adore you,” he said as she rocked against him, and he buried his face between her breasts.

Abby wrapped her arms around the back of his head and held him to her, let him take his pleasure from her as she rode him, gently at first, and then with increased urgency. Their moans seemed loud in the quiet of the farmhouse, echoing off the bare walls of the room. She tried to keep quiet, but it felt so good, still seemed new in a strange way, like they had just found each other and were exploring their desires. It was like that in many ways. They were both born again.

Afterwards they lay wrapped in each other’s arms beneath the thin moth-eaten blanket. “I don’t know how we get into these situations,” Marcus said.

“We’re just lucky, I guess,” said Abby, and they both laughed.

“It doesn’t matter what happens as long as we face it together.”

“We’re better together.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

\---

A pale light filtered through gaps in the shutters, a shaft of it lying across the bed, over Abby’s back where the sheet had fallen away exposing her soft, freckled skin. Kane turned onto his side and traced the shape of the light with his fingers.

“Mmm,” mumbled Abby. “You’re awake.”

“Yes, are you?”

“Getting there.” She turned her face to look at him, her hair falling into her eyes. Kane brushed it away.

“Morning,” he said.

“What time do you think it is?”

“I don’t know. Early, I guess.” Kane got up and padded naked over to the window. He unfolded one of the wooden shutters and looked outside. “Only just dawn,” he said as he looked at the pale light tinged with pink that was illuminating the farmland that surrounded them.

“Come back to bed, then,” said Abby, and when he turned, she was sitting up, watching him. He felt the familiar twitch of desire he always got when he looked at her, especially first thing in the morning when she was soft-eyed and bed-headed, and her smile was lazy and inviting. Kane got in next to her and she rolled towards him and they kissed.

“This bed is so comfy,” she said as she stroked his chest. “I’ve never slept in a bed like this.”

“I’m not sure about the bars on the frame,” Kane said. “It’s like a prison.”

“We could pretend I’m your prisoner,” she said, looking suggestively into his eyes.

“And I’ve arrested you?” he said, his heart rate increasing as he realised where this was going.

“Yes, but I keep trying to escape.”

“That’s because you’re a stubborn woman who never does what she’s told.”

“You know I am. Maybe you need to tie me to the bed so I can’t escape.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, and then I’ll be completely at your mercy.”

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to hear that?”

“Since the Ark,” she said, smirking.

“How did you know?”

“I’ve always known.”

“You know too much,” he said, flipping her onto her back and kneeling over her.

“There are bandages in my backpack. You can use them as ties.”

Kane reached down and felt around in the bag until he found them. He brought them out, made a show of twisting one until it was like a tight rope. He grabbed her wrist, wrapped the bandage around it and then tied it to one of the bars behind her. “Not too tight, I hope?”

“Tight enough.”

He did the same with her other wrist and then sat back to look at her. They hadn’t played a game like this since they’d first got together because life had become too difficult, too fraught emotionally when they were in the bunker. She was beautiful laid out before him, her dark eyes staring defiantly into his. She wriggled and pulled on the ties as though trying to escape. Kane leaned over her to make a pretence of pulling them tighter.

“You can’t escape,” he whispered.

“What are you going to do to me?” she said.

“Whatever I want.”

Abby took a deep, shuddering breath. “You know what might be interesting?”

“What?”

“If you shaved first.”

Kane was taken aback at her suggestion. “You want me without my beard?”

“Yes. Then it will be like it was on the Ark.”

Something flipped in Kane’s stomach, a not particularly pleasant feeling. “You want that man? You want who I was then?”

“I’ve already told you; he is you, you are him. I want Marcus Kane to fuck me – the whole you.”

He stared at her, not sure what was going on, what she was trying to do. He’d spent a long time trying to get rid of who he used to be and now she was actively seeking that person, wasn’t she? When he shaved off the beard that man was going to look back at him and that was who she would see.

He wasn’t going to become someone else, though, just by changing his appearance. He would still be who he thought he was now. He would still be the man she loved. Was that her point? That she wanted him regardless of what he looked like or even because of it? She was right, he was that man and many others, just as she was many different versions of Abby all rolled into the one he loved more than anything in the world.

“It’s okay, Marcus,” she said softly.

He nodded, went to get off the bed but she stopped him. “It might be nice to feel the beard on me one last time, though.”

“Oh, would it?” he said, deciding to get back into the game and stop overthinking everything.

“Uh huh.”

He sat back and looked at her, stroking his beard slowly. She wriggled again, and he grabbed her legs. “Be still. I won’t tell you again.”

He eased her legs apart and then he bent his head, rubbed his beard gently over her sex until she was moaning and pushing against him. He spread her lips, put his mouth on her and licked her until she was in the rhythm that was so familiar to him, the one that always made her come, and then he stopped. He left her with her legs spread wide and got off the bed.

“What the hell?” she cried. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to have a shave,” he said, and he gathered up the equipment Marianne had given him and went over to the sink.

“Marcus! You can’t leave me like this. I’m so close.”

He didn’t turn to look at her, just shrugged. “You’re my prisoner; I can do whatever I want with you.”

He ignored her further protestations, grinning as he filled the sink with water that was tinged brown, and then he looked in the mirror. A tired scruffily bearded man with too-long hair peered back at him. Maybe it was time for a change, to refresh. He lathered up a sliver of soap that had been left on the sink and started to shave away years of a life hard lived.

When he’d finished and he wiped away the last of the soap he stared at himself again, prepared for whatever looked back. It was still him. He looked a bit younger, and definitely cleaner, but the lines of time and experience were still etched on his face, and his eyes were the same ones that had seen too many things that he’d rather forget. He took a deep breath. Time to get back into the game.

When he turned, he saw Abby had pulled herself into a sitting position and was watching him.

“What did I tell you about keeping still?” he said, advancing towards her.

“I couldn’t help myself.”

“Now you’re going to have to be punished.”

“I would say I won’t do it again, but I probably will.”

“You definitely will. That’s who you are.” He got on the bed and pulled her onto her back again. This time when he went down on her there was no beard of course, and he wondered if it would be less enjoyable for her but there were no signs of that when she was moaning and trying to get him to spread her wider and bury his tongue deeper. He ignored her pleas, taking his time, bringing her to the brink again and then easing off.

“Marcus Kane!” she said sternly, and he chuckled while he was still buried between her legs.

“What’s the magic word?”

“Please. Please, Councillor.”

Calling him that made blood rush south leaving him lightheaded. He returned to his task and this time he didn’t stop until she was shuddering against him.

“See, people who do what they’re told get rewards,” he said, leaning forward so he could kiss her lips.

“I could reward you for being kind to me,” she whispered.

“And how are you going to do that?”

She wrapped her legs around his back, tried to position herself so his cock was poking at her sex. “I’ll let you fuck me,” she said.

Kane kissed her lips again, then moved to her breasts, taking his time sucking each in turn, then when he could last no longer he held himself above her and pushed inside her as hard and as fast as he could. He slid right in she was so wet. She squeezed his back with her legs, encouraging him, and he thrust hard. It felt strange not to have her hands on him, stroking him, holding him, and he kept his off her so that it was just their bodies slamming against each other. It was wild, and undisciplined at the end, but his orgasm was strong and deep, and Abby was gasping with pleasure as she came.

Kane let out a long sigh when he rolled off her. “God, that was good.”

“It was amazing! You were a generous prison guard.”

“Are you a compliant prisoner now?” He rolled towards her, but she couldn’t do the same because she was still tied to the bed.

“I can’t promise that. I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to lie.”

“Then honesty deserves freedom.” He knelt so he could undo the ties and when she went to rub her wrists he took them and rubbed them for her. “They’re not too sore, are they?” he said, examining them for marks.

“More numb than anything.”

“Okay.” He kissed each wrist and then he lay on his back and Abby rolled to face him.

She reached out, stroked his bare face. “Such a beautiful face,” she said.

Her fingers against his bare skin made him tingle pleasurably. There were upsides to being beardless after all. “I’ve always wanted you, even back then.”

“I know. I always knew.”

“Did you ever want me, even for a millisecond?”

She smiled. “Sometimes, in an angry kind of way.”

“Angry was how it was for me too, when I allowed myself the fantasy.”

“That’s what we were most of the time.”

“Yeah. Not now, though.”

“Definitely not now.”

Kane moved to kiss Abby again, but there was a knock on the door before he got halfway to her lips. He pulled the sheet over them quickly in case the door opened, but it didn’t. Marianne’s voice came through muffled.

“Breakfast in half an hour,” she said.

“Thank you!” said Abby in a cheerful voice.

“I suppose we’d better get dressed, face this crazy day.”

“Yup.”

Neither of them moved.

Abby kissed his lips again. “I love you, Marcus Kane,” she whispered. “Never forget that.”

“I love you too, always and forever.”

\---

Breakfast was fresh milk from cows that were kept in a field next to the farmhouse and eggs from chickens that roamed the yard. The scent of fresh baked bread filled the air and a great slab of it was on Abby’s plate, piled high with the eggs. She’d never tasted anything so good. They’d had nothing like it at Arkadia and if there’d been animals in Eden she hadn’t noticed them, and certainly hadn’t eaten anything from them. The eggs had been mixed with the milk and some bright yellow butter and fried and they were hot, creamy, and delicious. The bread was warm and nutty. She grinned at Marcus as they ate. Life on Earth before the apocalypse had been good, world wars notwithstanding.

“We must prepare for our journey north,” said Marianne as she and Abby cleared the dishes.

“Let us know what we can do to help.”

“You can fetch the milk churns from the barn and collect more eggs. We take produce to the markets in Paris. That is our cover story.”

“I see. Marcus and I can do that.”

“The chickens roam free so their eggs could be anywhere. You’ll have to hunt, like at Easter.” Marianne laughed, but Abby had no idea what she meant. How could you hunt eggs, and why only at Easter? She didn’t ask, because it seemed like something a person from this time should know. She’d have to hope she and Marcus could find these eggs easily.

They went out into the bright morning, and Arnaud showed them a large flatbed truck the back of which was partly filled with hay bales.

“You will put the milk in here, and the trays of eggs in these baskets,” he said, pointing to the bed.

“Okay. Thank you.”

He handed them trays that had individual depressions in them which Abby knew would hold the eggs as the ones they’d had for breakfast had been contained in the same thing. She headed to the barn with Marcus. There was a large black and white animal tethered inside.

“This must be the cow,” said Marcus, stroking its flank tentatively. It looked at him with large expressive eyes. “Hello,” he said gently.

“Kind of like a fat horse,” said Abby, running her eyes over it critically. “Are we supposed to get the milk from it?”

“I hope not! I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“I have an idea what to do; I had a baby once upon a time, but those look a lot more complicated,” she said pointing at an appendage hanging below the cow that looked like a bag of nipples.

“Might be fun!” said Marcus, smirking at her.

“Good luck with it!” Abby looked around, spotted three large silver jugs lined up behind the cow. “Maybe it’s these.” She went over to them, took the lid off one and peered inside. “Yep, this is the milk.” She lifted one, staggered a few yards with it before having to put it down it was so heavy.

“I’ll do it,” said Marcus smugly, and then he huffed as he felt the weight of it. Abby watched him stagger towards the truck with it, smiling to herself.

“Well done!” she said when he came back, a few beads of sweat forming on his brow. “Only two more to go.”

Marcus grimaced. “That’s a lot of milk for one cow.”

“Maybe they have more somewhere. I’m going to go and find the eggs.”

Abby walked around the yard, trying to see the brown speckled shells her breakfast eggs had been contained in. She found the first one by standing on it and hearing it snap beneath her foot. The milky yellow liquid spilled out uselessly onto the bare earth. Shit. After that she searched more carefully, and was pleased to have filled most of the boxes she’d been given. Marcus helped her load them onto the truck and by the time they’d finished Marianne and Arnaud were there, adding crates of vegetables.

“Who looks after the cows if no one lives here?” said Abby.

“We all do, anyone who is here. There’s always someone needing a place to hide out, and we take produce from local people as well, sell them and give them the money. It encourages them to protect us.” She handed them each a flask and a brown paper bag. “Some food and drink for the journey.”

Abby peered inside. There was bread, a hard white substance she knew as cheese and two of the eggs still in their shells. Were they supposed to eat them raw? Again, she couldn’t ask, so she kept quiet. “Thank you,” she said.

“You will have to hide in the back of the truck I’m afraid. The Germans are used to seeing us now but not you.” Marianne climbed onto the back of the flatbed and held out her hand to pull Abby and Marcus up. “You can sit here,” she said, showing them a space within the hay bales, “but if anyone comes or stops us you will have to cover yourselves with this.” There was a wooden board on top of the hay bales that was covered with baskets of vegetables and eggs.

Abby and Marcus took their places amongst the hay bales and practised pulling the tray over them. It worked well, but was hot and dark beneath it. Abby hoped they wouldn’t have to do it, or if they did it wouldn’t be for long.

“Thank you again for doing this,” she said, because even though it wasn’t what they wanted, and even though it was taking them away from the anomaly and the chance of getting back to Clarke, what these people were doing was dangerous for them and she was appreciative and grateful.

“You are welcome. We will soon be in Paris. Do not worry. All will be well.”

“Merci, Marianne,” said Marcus, and Marianne gave him a warm smile before jumping down from the back of the truck.

“She likes you, Marcoos,” said Abby as the truck juddered and then started to move.

“It’s my natural charm,” Marcus said, putting his arm around her. “You fell for it after all.”

“In your dreams. I was just desperate.”

“Yes, desperate for me.” He squeezed her shoulder and Abby looked up at him and smiled.

“You’re crazy,” she said.

Marcus kissed her, and then they sat back against the cab of the truck and watched the strange new world they’d landed in roll slowly by.

End Part One


	8. La Résistance Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane and Abby make the perilous journey to Paris

Part Two

The miles passed slowly. The truck they were in seemed old even to Kane’s untutored eye, and they were on a back road that was narrow and potholed in places. He thought they could have walked to Paris quicker. Abby was dozing by his side, her head resting on his shoulder. He wasn’t sure how she could sleep as the truck rattled and bounced, but they’d had a rough couple of days and expended a lot of energy with little rest, so he guessed she was overwhelmed with tiredness. He himself had never felt more awake.

This part of the route ran through a forest, the trees in full leaf and bright green. The air was full of bird song, and Kane closed his eyes so he could listen. He’d never heard anything like this before, not so many, not all singing at once, vying with each other to produce the best sound. It was beautiful, better than he’d ever thought Earth could be even in those rare dreams he’d had when the ground wasn’t empty but whole and teeming with life.

As they trundled along, he tried to count how many days it had been since he’d last had the tree sap. This was the fourth day, he thought. They’d gone to see Gabriel two days after that horrible night, and then yesterday they were here. Was that the same day or a different day? He wasn’t sure. He thought it had been maybe five days between Abby bringing him back from cryosleep and his relapse, but again he couldn’t be sure. Time had no meaning anymore, and they weren’t even in the same timeline, never mind time zone.

Either way, the moment of truth was coming soon. He didn’t feel ill; he felt more alive than ever and full of possibility, but that didn’t mean anything. Last time he’d felt ill while they were in the bar and a few hours later he’d deteriorated rapidly. What if that happened now while they were in the back of this truck? Abby didn’t have all her equipment. Kane had kept Arnaud’s razor, so she could open him up with that if necessary, but there was no catheter. How was she going to get it inside him to where it was needed? His hands grew sweaty and his heart started to race. He closed his eyes, tried to breathe the fresh, clean air deep into his lungs. There’s no point worrying about things you can’t control, he told himself, but it was a hard thing to convince himself of. Beside him, Abby snorted and woke herself up.

“Eh? What?” she said, looking up at him blearily.

He pressed a kiss to her nose. “You were asleep.”

“Oh.” She sat up, looked around. “I had no idea where I was for a moment.”

“I’m not entirely sure myself.”

“I don’t just mean where we are in terms of geography; I meant in the universe!”

“I know what you meant.”

Abby took a deep breath, looked around. “It’s beautiful.”

“The air’s so clean and have you heard the birds? They’re amazing. I remember thinking when we landed on Earth how wonderful everything was, but I guess it was still barren compared to this. I mean, not the trees and the plants, but the animals. This is a whole other level of population.”

“Makes you realise just what Alie destroyed.”

“Yeah, and here we are in the middle of another damn war!”

“I know! Why couldn’t we have gone back to a peaceful time?”

Kane laughed. “Has there ever been a peaceful time on Earth?”

“Before humans maybe.” She huffed a laugh. “Imagine if we came through the anomaly way back when, and were the original Adam and Eve.”

Kane smiled, although her comment reminded him of something he’d once said, back in another lifetime, though not to Abby. Something he now realised had been naïve and misguided. “The Earth wouldn’t stand a chance if we were Adam and Eve. I think we’re beyond procreating.”

“You could probably create a mini Marcus or two if you wanted.”

“Who with? You’re the only woman on Earth!”

“True. Why are we having this conversation?” She looked at him amused.

“I don’t know,” he chuckled.

Abby’s stomach rumbled and she looked down at it, rubbed it. “What time is it do you think?”

Kane looked up at the sliver of sky that was visible through the canopy of trees. “The sun is well up, so I guess it’s midday. I think we’ve been on the road a couple of hours.”

“How long should it take to go seventy kilometres?”

“In the Rover on ground similar to this it would have taken us a couple of hours, no more than three, but this truck is old and slow. I think we’re probably about halfway.”

“Time for lunch, then.” She found her paper bag and opened it, peering inside.

“It’s not that long since breakfast!”

“It’s long enough, and we were active this morning.” She grinned at him and then pulled out an egg. “What do you think we’re supposed to do with this?”

Kane shrugged. “What did they do this morning?”

“They cracked it and then mixed it with milk and butter and fried it in a pan.”

“We don’t have any of those things here.”

“I know! Why would she give it to us like this?”

“Maybe you can eat it uncooked as well.” Kane pulled out a piece of bread from the bag. “Crack it over this; it will soak in.”

Abby got a knife from her backpack and hit the egg with it. The shell splintered but nothing came out. “Weird.” She hit it again and a crack appeared, and a piece of the shell flaked off revealing a hard, white substance beneath. Abby flicked at another piece of shell with the knife and managed to gouge a hole into the white substance. “Oh, wait! I think I got this.” She worked the knife in and managed to split the egg in half, revealing a yellow centre like Kane had seen that morning, only it wasn’t runny it was hard. She poked a piece out onto her knife and popped it into her mouth.

“Is it okay?” said Kane, peering at the egg.

“Yeah! It’s tasty. I think it’s been cooked in the shell!”

“Oh, that’s clever!” Kane watched as she peeled the rest of the shell from the outside of the egg and then she handed him half. He bit into it. It smelt funny and the white part was rubbery, though not unpleasant, but the yellow was creamy and delicious. “Very nice.”

“Yeah.”

They sat with their backs against the wooden side of the truck and their legs stretched out and shared the contents of Abby’s bag. There was the same bread as they’d had that morning and a hard, white thing he knew was called cheese. It was smooth and creamy too, but pungent, more so than the egg, and Kane wrinkled his nose while he ate it.

“Reminds me of that fungus cake we used to get on the Ark,” he said.

“That’s right! I was wondering what it reminded me of.”

“I could get used to this,” he said, leaning his head back, his hands folded over his satisfied stomach.

“We need to save things where we can, though. We don’t know when we’ll eat again, or how.”

“Agreed.” Kane closed his eyes and it was his turn to drift into a contented sleep.

He was woken by Abby shaking him and whispering his name. “Marcus. Marcus.”

He opened his eyes, found himself peering directly into hers. “What?”

“There are people coming. I can see dust from their tyres.”

Kane raised his head slowly, peered over the tops of the baskets. In the distance there was indeed a cloud of dust, and he could hear the faint sound of an engine. “Shit!” he said.

“It might be nothing, just another traveller.”

“Yes, but we’d better be prepared.”

He and Abby pulled the tray of baskets over them, leaving a gap for the time being so they could hear and, more importantly, breathe. There was no point being uncomfortable any longer than they had to. The sound of the car grew louder as it closed the gap and after a couple of minutes it was right behind the truck, the dust it was kicking up showering down on them in a fine mist. The truck slowed and veered to one side to let the car past on the narrow track and then it came to a stop and the only sound was of boots hitting the ground as people jumped out of the car.

Kane slid the panel all the way back and lay in the filtered half-light, grasping Abby’s hand. He could hear his breaths escaping his nose and tried to slow them to make them quieter. It was hard, because his pulse was racing, and his breathing wanted to match that rhythm. What a joke it would be if they were caught now, thanks to a war that was nothing to do with them, on a planet and in a time where they didn’t belong and shouldn’t be. They can’t have gone through everything over the last few years for it to end here. Surely not? But if there was one thing Kane knew from experience, it was that life didn’t care about fair.

Abby squeezed his hand and he wished he could turn to look at her but didn’t dare move in case it made a sound. Outside, men speaking in the same accent as the train driver – German, Kane presumed – were talking to each other, and then one switched to French, and he heard Marianne reply. The door of the cab opened, and she must have got out because her voice became clearer. Kane couldn’t make out much of what she was saying, but the conversation seemed amicable to him. Certainly, there were no raised voices, no shouted instructions.

The voices grew closer, Marianne saying ‘oui’ and ‘non’ a lot. Kane recognised the word légumes, which were vegetables. They must be talking about the cargo. Metal clanged as the pins were removed from the tailgate of the truck and it slammed against the body. The floor creaked and bent as someone jumped up, and then Kane could hear boxes moving and shouts in German. His heart was racing so fast he thought he might die of a heart attack before he was caught, which might not be a bad thing given what he knew about German interrogation methods, but it would leave Abby to face them alone. He closed his eyes, tried to breathe, held Abby’s hand tighter.

The man who’d jumped up onto the truck was switching between German and French and Kane heard Marianne give a tense laugh in response to one of his comments. Some of the baskets moved, the contents rustling. Then the floor creaked again, and the tailgate slammed against the back and the pins were slotted in place and Kane allowed himself to relax a little. The next couple of minutes were like a reverse of the previous ones, the sounds moving further away, the conversation switching from French to German, doors slamming as everyone got back in their vehicles. The truck shuddered as the engine started up, and then they were trundling down the road again.

“God, that was close!” whispered Abby.

“I thought he was going to find us for sure.”

“Do you think it’s safe to get out of this? I can barely breathe.”

“Not yet. What if someone’s riding in the back of the truck?”

They both lapsed into silence after he said that, the possibility suddenly seeming all too real. Then the truck slowed again and he was glad they hadn’t removed the cover. What if the men had come back? The cab door creaked open and Marianne’s voice came from the ground next to them.

“It’s okay. They’ve gone.”

Kane and Abby pushed back the cover, both breathing deeply to take in the clean, fresh air. They sat up, peered over the side.

“What did they want?” said Kane.

“Just an inspection. I’ve met them before so it was more for appearances I think, luckily for us.”

“We’re sorry to put you through this,” said Abby.

“Oh, do not worry. There are things in some of the crates that would get us in trouble whether you were here or not!” She laughed like someone who’d lived through this so many times it had become a wearisome joke.

“How long before we’re in Paris?” said Kane.

“An hour or so. Not long now.” Marianne smiled and then she got back into the cab and they set off again.

“I don’t know why I feel relief that we’re going to be in Paris soon,” said Abby, looking wryly at Kane. “What the hell are we going to do when we get there?”

“One worry at a time. Let’s get there first and then we’ll figure something out.”

\---

Abby and Marcus got out of the truck in a narrow street with pale dirty white buildings crowding in on either side.

“Quickly,” whispered Marianne, and Abby felt the woman’s hand against her back as she was ushered through an opening into a small courtyard that was dark and gloomy, framed on all sides by other buildings at least five stories high.

“Through here,” said Arnaud, opening a door, and Abby followed him up five flights of creaking wooden steps to another door that opened into a small apartment.

The room was cramped and smelled musty. The walls were a dark green, the paint peeling like in the farmhouse. There was a lot of dark wooden furniture crowded into such a small space. A table and four chairs sat in front of one of the two windows. The fireplace on the far wall had a tiled surround and a wooden mantle. Two high backed chairs were placed in front of it, their dark brown upholstery threadbare in places. There was a door on one side of the fireplace, and the other wall was half timbered, with frosted glass above and a glass paned door. Marcus and Marianne came in behind Abby, and she moved to stand next to the table.

“We will have to leave you here for a while,” said Marianne. “The food supplies must go to the distribution centre, although I doubt they ever get distributed amongst anyone other than the administrators, and we have other things to attend to. We will be an hour or two. Don’t go out, and don’t let anyone in.”

“We won’t. Thank you, Marianne.” Abby gave the woman a hug.

“Paris!” said Marcus, striding across the wooden floor to peer out of the window.

Abby joined him, putting her arm around him and scanning the view. There wasn’t a lot to see other than the buildings of the adjacent street, which were made from the same yellow-white blocks as the one they were in. In the distance she could just make out the twin towers of a church. There were no cars and only a few people walked along the pavement while she watched. When she looked up at him Marcus was grinning as he took it all in. His happiness made Abby smile. “You’re excited, aren’t you?”

“In a way, yes. To be living a moment of history! It’s amazing.”

“I wonder where we are exactly?”

“I don’t know.” He turned and pulled her more firmly into his arms, dropping soft kisses on her nose and cheeks. “Maybe there’s a clue in the apartment.” He left her at the window, started sifting through items on the table. “Ah!” he said, showing her a newspaper.

“What does it say?” said Abby, whose grasp of any language other than medical Latin had always been poor.

“Well the date is interesting. It says tenth July nineteen forty-two.”

“Oh, wow. I guess that’s recent, last day or two maybe.”

“Maybe. We don’t know if other people have been here while Marianne and Arnaud were in Fontainebleau.”

“True.”

“I can’t really understand what it says. Redistribution des matiéres premiéres,” he said in what Abby thought was a reasonable imitation of Marianne’s accent. “Not sure what matiéres means. Matters perhaps? Redistribution of first matters?” He screwed up his nose as he scanned the article, holding the paper with its tiny print close to his eyes. “It’s something to do with the British, Americans and Soviets. I’ll never be able to read it.” He folded the newspaper and put it back on the table.

Abby went to the mantelpiece, pulled a stack of papers out of a wooden holder. Two of them were envelopes. “I have an address!” she said, turning and waving the letters at Marcus. He hurried across, took them from her.

“Eleven, Rue Saint-Bon, fourth arrondissement, Paris. I have no idea where that is.” He opened the envelope, took out the letter and scanned it before shaking his head and giving it back to Abby.

“We know where and when we are at least,” said Abby with a laugh.

“It’s a start! Let’s explore the rest of the apartment.”

The rest of it was a tiny kitchen with a stove and shelves stuffed with pots and pans and pale blue crockery, a bathroom with a tin bath and a toilet with a cracked lid, and a bedroom which lay beyond the frosted glass windows and glass-paned door. There was a large bed like the one in the farmhouse, covered in layers of blankets. Marcus flopped down onto it, patted the covers.

Abby shook her head. “We can’t do that.”

“Why not? It’s one way to pass a couple of hours.”

“A couple of hours? You’re being generous to yourself there.”

Marcus pulled her down on top of him in reply then rolled so she was pinned beneath him. “I do okay for a hundred and seventy-five-year-old.”

“I can’t argue with that.” She allowed herself to indulge in a few minutes of making out then rolled away from him with a sigh.

“Aww,” said Marcus, looking at her sadly.

“Don’t look at me like that. We’ve got things to do before Marianne and Arnaud get back.”

“Like what?”

“We need to sort your hair out for a start.”

“My hair!” said Marcus, sitting up and stroking his shoulder-length, straggly brown waves.

“No man we’ve seen has long hair. I need to braid mine as well; I don’t think the ponytail has been invented yet. And look at my clothes! I can’t believe Marianne hasn’t said anything about them.”

“Maybe she’s too polite, or she thinks ripped leather is an American style.” Marcus grinned, and then he sighed, stroked his hair again. “I guess it is time it went. Without the beard it looks kind of scruffy.”

Abby refrained from telling him it looked scruffy WITH the beard, because she had no room to talk. Over the last few years, appearances had been the last things on their minds, but this world they were in had rules of dress and habit and they had to fit in even if they were only here for a short while. “I don’t want to give the Nazis any excuse to arrest us if they see us,” she said, getting up off the bed and going into the kitchen. Marcus followed her in, watched as she found a pair of reasonably sharp scissors.

“Where do you want me?”

“At the table I guess, where there’s light.”

Marcus took off his jacket and t-shirt and pulled out a chair to sit in. Abby examined his face like she had when she’d trimmed his beard the other week. “I don’t know how short I’m going to get it with just scissors.”

“I’ve got Arnaud’s razor,” said Marcus, digging into his pocket and pulling out the leather pouch. “I stole it.” He looked sheepish as he handed the razor to Abby, but she was glad he’d taken it. It would be more useful and less dangerous than the scalpel she had in her backpack.

“Remember when I trimmed your hair in the bunker,” she said, taking a fistful of strands and snipping off most of the length.

“That got quite nerve wracking towards the end,” he said, which made her laugh, and her hand shook like it had the times he was thinking about, though for different reasons of course.

“Don’t make me laugh or you’ll end up like you did then.”

“Indra said asymmetrical haircuts were very popular amongst the men of Trikru and that I looked good.”

Abby snorted at his joke. “Stop it!”

“I wonder what she’s doing now,” he said, becoming wistful.

“Ordering everyone around no doubt.”

“Yeah.”

“Now keep quiet, otherwise I’ll just get one of those bowls from the kitchen and cut around that.”

He sat patiently while she trimmed the length and used the razor to thin the edges. It was difficult work, and stressful, even though she’d cut hair many times before – hers and Clarke’s and Jake’s and Marcus’s of course, though he’d never wanted it short for the same reasons he hadn’t wanted to shave his beard. When she was done, she stood back for the final time and appraised him. He looked neat and tidy and she was pleased with the result. It wasn’t quite as short as when he was on the Ark, and it was wavier, and threaded with grey, but still him, still the man she’d fought and challenged and loved and given everything for.

“Very handsome,” she said, smiling at his anxious face.

“Yes?”

“Definitely.” She brushed the hairs from his chest and back and he got up and went into the bathroom. When he returned, he was smiling.

“You did a great job,” he said, taking her into his arms and kissing her.

Abby ran her fingers through it, grazing his scalp, the shorter hairs pleasing to her touch. It must have felt good to him too because he moaned.

“Mmm, nice,” he said.

“Yeah,” said Abby, sighing as she removed her fingers. “We’d better clear up.”

They brushed up the hair and Marcus ended up wiping down all the surfaces in the living room and kitchen and sweeping the floors because the whole apartment was dusty. Abby went into the bathroom, used a brush that was on the sink to comb through her long, knotted strands before twisting them into the tighter braid she hadn’t worn for years now. They were both going backwards in some ways, but then that made sense, because they’d gone back in time. Literally.

When she emerged, Marcus looked at her and his cheeks grew pink. “A new us,” he said shakily.

“New beginnings,” said Abby, and then the door opened, and Marianne and Arnaud came in, each with a large box which they set on the table.

“Marcus, your hair!” she said, looking him over.

“It was time for a change,” he said, his blush deepening.

“You look good,” she said, smiling at him, then she looked at Abby. Abby waited for a comment on her own change of hairstyle, but none was forthcoming. “We need to talk,” Marianne said. “There’s been a change of plan for us.”

“Do the boxes have something to do with it?” said Abby as she and Marcus walked towards the table.

“Yes. I will show you.” Marianne took out a knife and slit the tape on the top of one of the boxes. She opened the flaps and Abby and Marcus peered inside.

“Leaflets?” said Marcus, pulling one out and looking at it. It was written in what Abby assumed was German and had lots of bold type and swastikas and a big picture of Hitler saluting German soldiers with the heading ‘Heil Hitler!” which she had no trouble understanding.

“These are supporting the Nazis,” she said, looking closely at Marianne, a stab of fear in her gut. Had they trusted these people too easily? They didn’t really know who they were after all.

“Yes, they are supposed to. These are not our mission. Watch.”

She and Arnaud took all the leaflets out of the box until it was empty. Abby and Marcus exchanged puzzled looks. What was going on? Then Marianne took her knife and slit the tape on the bottom of the box and lifted the flaps. Instead of the tabletop being visible beneath, there was more paper. She took a bundle out, handed it to Abby. They’d never had currency on the Ark or in Arkadia, bartering and trading for supplies instead of paying for them, but she knew what money looked like from history books.

“These are French francs,” said Marcus, taking the bundle and turning it over in his hands.

“Six million of them!” said Marianne, grinning.

“That’s a lot,” said Abby, more as a question than a statement as she had no idea what six million francs could buy but it was a big number so presumably a lot.

“Yes. It is to fund our comrades in Marseille.”

“I see, and what are you going to do with it?”

“A contact will be at the Gare-de-Lyon tonight who will take it to Marseille. We have to get it to him.”

“Is that dangerous?”

“Of course, because we have to go at night, after curfew, but we will wait until the blackest part when the Germans are drunk or sleepy. It will be fine.” She laughed, but it didn’t sound funny to Abby. It sounded like a suicide mission. “Now. You can help Arnaud put the money in these cases while I make some food.”

With the money split between two cases and the table cleared the four of them sat down to eat the vegetable soup Marianne had prepared.

“I’m sorry it is more of the same,” she said.

“Oh, it’s wonderful,” said Abby.

“Believe me this is amazing compared to what we’re used to,” said Marcus, dipping some bread into the sauce.

Marianne and Arnaud exchanged a glance. “We wanted to talk to you about that, actually,” she said.

“About food?” Marcus frowned.

“Non, about what you’re used to, where you come from. You see, Arnaud and I we were talking before, and we don’t think you are who you say you are.”

Abby’s stomach lurched, the food she’d just swallowed threatening to come back up.

“What makes you say that?” said Marcus, calmly.

“Everything about you. You say you have come from London, but they would not have let you come like this, with your beard and your hair, and your clothes. We work with people from the Special Operations Executive and they are careful with their dress. They make sure it is like we would wear here, right down to the seams of the clothes and the zippers. You, your habillement...” she pointed at Abby. “It is nothing I have seen. I wasn’t sure what to make of it all when we were in Fontainebleau but then I come here today and you have cut the hair of Marcus and so you have realised, I think, that this is not as it should be.”

“As I explained to you, we are on an undercover mission, naïve perhaps, in hindsight, but...” Marcus trailed off.

“You are on a mission, but where is your contact? You haven’t tried to tell anyone of your misfortune. You haven’t asked us to take you anywhere. It is not true, Marcus. Are you here to spy on us?”

“No! No, we’re not, we erm...”

Abby leant towards Marianne, put her hand on her arm. “Marianne, we’re not here to spy on you or betray you or hurt you in any way. We mean you and your colleagues no harm. We are who we say we are. I am Abby and he is Marcus. We’re travellers, I suppose you could say, and we were lost, and you found us, and you saved us and we’re grateful for that.” She squeezed the woman’s arm gently.

“You expect us to trust you? This is a world of collaboration and betrayal. Sometimes I barely trust Arnaud and I’ve known him since we were children.”

Arnaud shrugged nonchalantly at Marianne’s words. “Where are you travelling to?” he said.

“I have, erm, a daughter. She’s missing and I’m trying to find her, but we don’t know where she is or how to find out.”

“We’ve travelled a long way looking for her,” said Marcus.

“She is missing in France?”

“We don’t know where she is,” said Abby, and the realisation that she might never see Clarke again hit her for the first time, and tears welled. Marcus reached out to grasp her hand.

“We’ll be together again one day,” he said, his soft voice and hopeful words making the tears spill over and drip into Abby’s soup.

Marianne sighed. “I don’t know what is true and what isn’t, and I am sorry if you have lost your daughter. I can only trust that you mean us no harm. You can stay here tonight but then you must be on your way.”

“Thank you,” said Abby, sniffling.

“We won’t let you down,” said Marcus.

“You mustn’t go out while we are gone. If you are seen dressed like that you will be arrested, and you will be killed. There is no doubt about that. There are clothes in the bedroom you can have. Take what you need.”

“Thank you again,” said Abby.

They ate the rest of the meal in silence, and Abby thought the evening was going to be interminable if no one felt able to speak, but she didn’t want to instigate a conversation in case Marianne felt she was being questioned. It didn’t turn out that way, though, because when the plates were cleared away and Marianne was ensconced in one of the large armchairs, smoking a cigarette, she fell into a reflective mood, talking about her childhood by the sea in Le Havre. Abby and Marcus sat at the table hand in hand and listened.

“We must sleep,” announced Marianne when the clock on the mantlepiece struck ten. “We will be out at three. That’s when people are not alert. There is only one bed, but you are welcome to it.”

“Oh, no, no. You must have it,” said Abby. “You need to be rested. Marcus and I are happy in these chairs.”

“Very well. We will wish you goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

They disappeared into the room and Abby and Marcus sat in the large chairs they’d vacated. They were comfortable enough to sleep in, though she wasn’t tired. The fire in the grate was still giving off heat and it was nice to be somewhere warm and dry even if it was for just one night.

“What are we going to do tomorrow?” she said to Marcus, whose eyes were starting to close.

“We’ll have to make our way back to Fontainebleau somehow.”

“How, though? If we get seen we can’t bluff our way out of it. We don’t speak French or German, we have no good excuse for being here, nothing to identify us.”

“Maybe we can persuade Marianne to take us to the outskirts of the city in the truck, and then we can wait until dark and travel at night.”

“I don’t know if she will; she’s not very happy with us at the moment.”

“It’s worth a try.”

They lapsed into silence and Abby watched the flames of the fire, finding it calming like she had during the brief months they were on Earth before. From the bedroom came the sounds of soft moans, and she looked at Marcus who looked at her with eyebrows raised.

“I thought she didn’t trust him,” he said.

“I didn’t trust you and look where we are.”

His shoulders heaved as he tried to laugh quietly. “You can come and get on my knee,” he said, patting his lap.

Abby hesitated, because it felt strange to do it in this house, and especially to the sounds of their hosts doing the same thing, but then she got up and went across to Marcus, standing in front of him so he could pull down her pants and underwear. They were in a war zone, and who knew what tomorrow was going to bring. You had to live in the moment. He pulled her towards him, pressed kisses to her belly, and then she straddled him, sinking down onto his waiting cock with a soft sigh. They whispered their moans into each other’s ears, so there was no chance of being overheard.

End Part Two


	9. La Résistance Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing goes according to plan.

Kane was awake when the clock struck two-thirty in the morning and sounds of movement came from the bedroom. Five minutes later Marianne and Arnaud emerged, two dark figures moving almost soundlessly through the apartment. They didn’t see that he was awake at first, until Marianne came out of the kitchen and caught his eye.

“Sorry to wake you,” she whispered.

“You didn’t,” replied Kane. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes. We have everything. We should be back by dawn.”

“Bonne chance!”

“Merci.”

She touched his shoulder briefly, and Kane watched as they picked up a case each from the table and left. He got up, went over to the window and opened one of the shutters a fraction so he could see out. It was dark, but his eyes had accustomed to it and he could just make them out as they headed down the small street, hugging the buildings opposite. The mission wasn’t as physically dangerous as blowing up train lines, but he suspected the streets of Paris were far more perilous. He’d experienced times like this in the bunker, when he'd been getting pills for Abby, sneaking through the hallways at night to meet dealers or falsify the records in Medical. He’d been physically sick sometimes afterwards at the thought of what might have been if he’d been caught. There was no explanation for being somewhere you shouldn’t be. Capture meant death. It was the same here.

He closed the shutter and returned to his seat. Abby stirred in her sleep and he looked at her. When you had a mission you believed in, or you loved something whether it was a person or a philosophy or your country, you would do anything to protect or support it, no matter the risk. It was his love of the Ark and his desire to protect the human race that had driven his actions long ago, rightly or wrongly, he still couldn’t come fully down on one side or the other. The lines were blurred, which was why it was so difficult. He and Abby both saw that now; there were no easy choices.

Would he have given himself in place of any of those people, like Jaha tried to, or like Abby would have? It was tempting to say yes, because everyone wants to be the hero of their own story, but the answer was probably no. He’d thought he was needed to lead, the only one who could do what had to be done. That was his arrogance, his fatal flaw, if you wanted to be poetic about it. He was lucky to have been given a second chance – more than one – with his life, and with Abby.

She opened her eyes and looked at him sleepily. Love was life’s greatest gift, to love and be loved. He’d long given up thinking he didn’t deserve it. No one deserved anything in life. You played the hands you were dealt, you worked hard, tried to make things happen, be a useful person. Sometimes you got things wrong, sometimes you got them right and sometimes you got really, really lucky.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey.” Abby yawned and stretched. “What time is it?”

“A little after three.”

“Oh, right. Has Marianne...”

“They went about fifteen minutes ago. Seemed confident.”

“Good.” She sighed. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long, an hour maybe but I was dozing.”

“Will we ever have a night where we sleep the whole way through?”

“I just slept for a hundred and twenty-odd years so I’m okay with being awake.” He got up, leant over her and pressed a kiss to her head and then her lips. “Do you want some of that stuff Marianne made us earlier?”

“Oh, yes please.”

Kane went into the kitchen, put some water on the stove to boil. He added a brown powder to two mugs and then filled them with the water. The drink was bitter but not unpleasant and it had given him a surge of energy earlier. It might help them get through the rest of the night. He handed her mug to Abby and then he knelt by the fire and kindled it back into life.

“We need to find a map today,” he said, settling back into his chair. “We’ll never make it to Fontainebleau on foot if we don’t know where we’re going.”

“I’ve been thinking about the anomaly,” said Abby, blowing on her drink and taking a sip. “If it’s there right by that railroad track, why hasn’t anybody else seen it? I mean surely they must have. If we can go through it then other people can. You’d think it would be well known but Marianne and Arnaud haven’t mentioned it and they don’t understand our clothes and hair so people from other times mustn’t appear randomly on a regular basis.”

“Maybe it’s not that obvious, or maybe you have to enter it an exact way making it impossible if you don’t know it’s there.”

“I thought that Octavia survived because she was born in space, had irradiated blood which Diyoza didn’t have.”

“Yeah. Seems odd though that this phenomenon exists on a planet hundreds of light years from earth but only people from the Ark can use it. That doesn’t make sense.”

“Or other people with irradiated blood.”

“There aren’t many of those. People born on Alpha live under an atmosphere like on Earth.”

“True.” She stared into the fire for a moment and then she turned worried eyes on him. “What if it was a one-way system and we can never go back?”

“There’s no evidence to support that.”

“We can’t control it even if we can enter it. It’s not like there’s a computer system and we can type in Alpha 2281 and that’s where we’ll end up.”

“For all we know it’s a two-way system between here and Alpha and there’s nowhere else we can go.”

“I hope that’s the case, as long as you’re cured of course.” She leaned closer to better see him in the firelight.

“I feel fine,” he said, before she could say anything. “Better than ever to be honest.”

“That’s good, but you’ll tell me, won’t you, if...”

“Of course I will.”

Suddenly he heard scraping noises outside and he was halfway out of his chair when the door banged open and Marianne came in, dragging something behind her.

“Help me!” she cried, and Kane and Abby ran to her. The thing she was dragging was Arnaud, who was clutching a case in each hand.

“What’s happened?” said Kane, helping her drag the man through the door.

Abby shut the door behind them, switched on the light, and then part of what had happened was obvious. Arnaud’s face was scratched and covered in blood. Kane’s hand came away sticky with the substance when he put his hand on his chest to steady him.

“Put him on the table,” said Abby, and Kane cleared everything off the table with a swoop of his arm and he and Marianne lifted Arnaud onto the surface. “Get my bag,” said Abby to Kane, and he went over to the fireplace to find her backpack.

“We were ambushed,” Marianne was saying when he returned. “Two men. I thought it was Germans, but it wasn’t, luckily, just thugs.”

“Are you okay?” said Kane, looking at her properly for the first time as he handed Abby the bag. She had scratches on her face too but she wasn’t bleeding like Arnaud.

“Yes, I’m fine, but Arnaud... He’s been stabbed I think, I didn’t want to look. We weren’t far from here so I brought him back but we need to get a doctor. I’ll have to go find one.”

“There’s no need,” said Abby as she pulled her medical kit from her backpack. “I’m a doctor. I can deal with him.”

“I have a first aid kit as well. I can get it.”

“Yes, do that.” Abby smiled kindly at her and Marianne disappeared into the bedroom.

“Is he okay?” said Kane.

“We’ll see.” Abby undid Arnaud’s jacket and shirt and it was clear there was a lot of blood. She took one of the bandages and held it to where blood was still seeping from his chest. “Hot water, towels, you know the drill,” she said, and Kane headed to the kitchen to prepare what she needed.

When he returned Abby had laid out the few instruments she had and she set about cleaning the blood away so she could examine Arnaud properly.

“What did the men want?” said Kane to Marianne.

“They tried to take the cases. I don’t know if they knew there was money in them or they were just taking a chance,” said Marianne, hovering anxiously over Abby’s shoulder. “Are you really a doctor? I can’t believe it, that is so lucky.”

“She is,” said Kane, taking Marianne by the shoulders and steering her away from Abby. “She’s the best. He’s in good hands.”

Marianne paced the small living room, growing more frantic by the second. “I have to take the cases. Our contact is expecting me.”

“You can’t go now!” said Kane incredulously. “What if those men are still there?”

“They will be gone. They ran off when I hit them with the case. I think I broke their faces.” She looked at Kane with wide, crazed eyes.

“Surely you can rearrange things with your contact. Take them when Arnaud is well.”

She shook her head. “Non, non. It is not possible. They must go today. People are waiting in Marseille. Their lives depend on it.”

She went over to the cases, opened them and started transferring the money from one to the other. “I can’t carry two they are so heavy.”

Kane stood and watched, unsure what he could do to stop her going on this suicide mission. Abby turned her head, looked at them both.

“Marianne, Marcus is right. You can’t go now. It’s too dangerous.”

“It is no more dangerous than it was before, except I will lose the dark if I don’t go now. No. I must do it.” She carried on trying to stuff all the bills into one case, tears dripping onto the bundles.

Kane put his hand to his chin to rub his beard like he did when he needed to think or for comfort, but his chin was bare. “One case will be just as heavy as two,” he said.

“Yes, but I can drag it.”

“You will be heard!”

Marianne shrugged.

“I’ll come with you,” said Kane. “I’ll help you.”

Marianne stopped transferring the money and stared up at him. Abby turned again, scalpel in hand.

“You will not!” she said.

“She can’t go by herself; she’ll get caught.”

“That’s not...Marcus, please. Please don’t do this.”

Kane went over to Abby, kissed her head. “It will be fine. We’ll just get it over with.”

“How can you say it will be fine! Look at what has just happened.” She gestured to the prone body of Arnaud on the table.

“I can’t let her go by herself. I just can’t, Abby. I can’t do it anymore than you can ignore Arnaud and not help him.”

She sighed. “This is madness.”

“I will be careful, I promise.”

“You’d better be. Don’t leave me, Marcus. Don’t you leave me here on this planet alone.”

“I won’t. I’ll come back to you. I promise.” He kissed her head again. “I love you.”

“I love you. Be careful. Please.”

He nodded, then he picked up the case with the extra bills in that Marianne had transferred and she picked up the other one.

“Thank you for doing this, Marcus,” she said, “and you, Abby. Thank you for taking care of Arnaud.”

“Just come back safely, even if you have to lose the money. We’ll figure something else out.”

Marianne nodded then headed for the door. Kane followed, turning to look at Abby as he left. Her face was pale and worried and he hated doing this to her, but he couldn’t see another choice. He gave her a reassuring nod, then he followed Marianne down the stairs and out into the dark courtyard.

\---

The door shut behind Marcus, and Abby was left alone with Arnaud. He was in and out of consciousness, which was both good and bad. Bad, because it meant he was losing a lot of blood and she had nothing to replace it. Good, because she had to operate without an anaesthetic, and it would be painful. The less aware he was the better. She tried to put Marcus out of her mind while she worked on Arnaud and the methodical nature of the work helped for a while.

With the blood cleaned away and the source of the bleeding identified it became clear that it was one wound, and as far as she could tell it had missed all the vital arteries and organs of his body. He’d been lucky and so was she, because the last stab wounds she’d had to operate on had belonged to Marcus, and he hadn’t been so fortunate, and the thought of having to deal with something like that again made her feel sick.

Marianne’s first aid kit was a field one, designed for patching up people in exigent circumstances, and it contained needles and surgical thread, which Abby didn’t have in her own meagre kit. She’d have to find things like this if she could; they’d be invaluable. She sutured Arnaud’s wound neatly and carefully, trying to cause him as little pain as possible, though he grunted and winced in his wakeful moments. When she’d finished and he was as stable as she could make him with such rudimentary equipment, she eased off his jacket and shirt and went into the bedroom to fetch a pillow and blankets. He should be in bed, but there was no way she could lift him on her own without injuring him. She’d have to wait until Marcus and Marianne returned. If they did.

She found some painkillers in Marianne’s kit and crushed them into some water. She lifted a groggy Arnaud’s head and helped him slowly sip the medicine. What if Marcus and Marianne got arrested? She’d be stuck here with an injured man and with no way of finding Marcus and Marianne or helping them. She didn’t know anyone, didn’t speak the language, didn’t know the ins and outs of this war, who could be trusted and who could not. She suspected she couldn’t go to anyone official because they would be German or collaborating with them.

Arnaud took most of the medicine and then closed his eyes and fell asleep. She went into the kitchen, made another of the drinks Marcus had given her only an hour ago and sat in a chair next to the table, watching Arnaud and thinking about Marcus.

He frustrated her sometimes. He still felt he had to atone for things he’d done long ago in another life in a situation that even she had to concede was far from black and white. Abby had taken a leap of faith back then and he had not. It had worked for her and so not for him, but it could easily have been the other way around.

He berated himself for not waiting an extra day or two but if he had and Raven hadn’t made it and the kids were all dead then it would have been Abby who was wrong and responsible for those extra deaths on the Ark. Sometimes there was a clear right and wrong like with what the Primes were doing, and sometimes there was not. Sometimes it was blurred. It couldn’t be that you were only a good guy because your leap of faith turned out to be successful.

She got up and switched off the light in case anyone could see it and sat back down in the dark. She glanced at the clock; it was already gone four. Another hour or so and it would be dawn. If they weren’t back by then... Marcus hadn’t even had chance to change his clothes. His pants were classic she supposed, but his leather jacket would be out of place in this time. He would stand out, and if anyone spoke to him... She felt tears welling and took deep breaths, letting her head fall back as though that would send the tears back inside. There was nothing to do but wait.

\---

Kane followed Marianne along the dark streets of Paris, pressed as close to the walls of the buildings as he could. They stuck to narrow back streets with cobbled sidewalks that were hard to walk on and shuttered shops that used to be cafes and bookstores but seemed long deserted. His eyes had grown accustomed to the dark and when they had to cross larger intersections, he caught glimpses of the building he’d seen from the window, with its two towers. It was a cathedral, one of the oldest in the world, but he couldn’t remember its name. He couldn’t ask Marianne because they were only speaking when necessary to minimise the risk of being overheard.

The walk to the Gare de Lyon would normally take them half an hour, she’d told him as they crept down the stairs of the apartment building, but they were going a more circuitous route to avoid the regular checkpoints and the people who’d attacked them earlier. It might take them an hour to get there or longer. Adrenaline was pumping through him and he felt like he had when they’d first landed on Earth from the Ark, searching for the kids, avoiding the Grounders, and later tracking Roan and Clarke. His senses were heightened, his body was in tune with his mind, moving stealthily through the city. The difference was back then he’d had a gun, a way to fight if he’d been caught. The only weapons he had now were the case and Arnaud’s razor which was in his pocket.

They’d been walking maybe twenty minutes when the back street they were on came to an end and another road ran across the top like the bar on top of a letter T. Marianne stopped, held her arm behind her to make sure Kane stopped as well. He stood silently, listening, but could hear nothing.

“We have no choice but to go on the Rue de Rivoli for quite a few metres,” she whispered.

“Is that a problem?” whispered Marcus in return.

“It is a main street. There may be checks and we are more likely to be seen.”

“Is there no alternative?”

“Yes, but it would take too long. We will miss our contact and it will be daylight. The dark is already going.”

She was right, it was getting lighter. Kane hadn’t realised because he was concentrating so much but he could see further, and the buildings ahead were defined shapes rather than black masses. “Then we must hurry,” he said.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“We’ve come this far.”

Marianne nodded and turned right out of the side street. Kane followed her and they were soon on the Rue de Rivoli. It was a wide street full of shops and hotels. Kane’s heart was in his mouth as they crept along the road, occasionally pressing themselves into shop doorways when they thought they heard footsteps. Ahead of them a huge column loomed against the brightening sky. Kane could hear voices and Marianne stopped, then dragged him into the doorway of a café. They stood pressed side by side as the owners of the voices grew closer. It was three men, dressed in grey trousers and tunics with knee high black boots and round helmets. Soldiers, Kane thought from the way they walked, not officers. The men paused and one of them lit a cigarette; its acrid smoke drifted towards Kane and Marianne and he wrinkled his nose at the smell. The men were sharing a joke judging by the laughter, and Kane could only hope they were too preoccupied to notice the two figures huddling in the doorway only yards from them. If they turned and looked they would be certain to see them.

After an interminable amount of time the men moved on and Kane started to breathe more easily.

“We are near the Place de la Bastille,” said Marianne. “It is a popular place to gather for them.”

“Are we close to the station now?”

“Fifteen minutes maybe. We will go down this street.”

She moved out of the doorway and they headed down another narrow side street. They walked down the street with no further interruptions and Kane followed Marianne down some steps until they were in a place that was much darker and smelled damp. There was water and a network of tunnels which Marianne negotiated expertly in the dark. The tunnels dripped water onto Kane’s back as he hurried along. They emerged onto another street and at the end of it was a square, fronted on two sides by a long building with a clocktower.

“The Gare de Lyon,” whispered Marianne.

“Are we just going to walk into the station?” said Kane, not keen on the idea of being so exposed.

“Non, non. There is a road under the ground. We meet there.” She pointed across a wide road that seemed to Kane to be overlooked by everything in Paris. He looked to his left and could see another group of German soldiers standing next to a barrier. They were some distance away but the fact he could see them meant they could see him if they chose to look.

“There are soldiers!” he said.

“Yes. We must wait until they are not looking then run, but quietly.”

Running quietly while carrying a heavy case didn’t seem feasible to Kane but he had no choice but to do whatever Marianne said. She was the expert in this after all. He waited for her signal, his heart beating out of his chest, the sound of it loud in his ears.

“Now!” she said, and Kane took a deep breath and sprinted across the road after her, not looking anywhere except at Marianne. They made it to the other side, and she disappeared into a dark tunnel. Kane followed. 

“That was fun!” she said, grinning manically at him, and Kane wondered if she’d lost her mind, because he certainly had, following this woman through the streets of Paris, waiting to be arrested at any moment. What the hell had he been thinking?

“What now?” he said.

“We wait. I hope he has not given up.”

Kane stood in the dark tunnel and thought about Abby and what she was doing, what she was thinking. She’d be so worried and there was nothing he could do to calm her. He’d been an idiot to leave her, but he just couldn’t seem to help himself when people were in trouble. He sensed Marianne tense beside him, and footsteps echoed in the tunnel. A figure drew close.

“Je suivrai le côté droit jusqu'au feu,” came the voice.

“Mais en excluant le feu si je peux,” replied Marianne.

The figure stepped forward revealing a tall man in a dark pin striped suit wearing a wide brimmed hat. He frowned at Kane.

“Don’t worry,” said Marianne in English. “He’s a friend. Arnaud was attacked.”

“Is he okay?” said the man.

“Oui, I think.”

“Do you have the money.”

“It is here.” Marianne gave the man her case and gestured to Kane to do the same.

“Merci.” The man had a large suitcase and he put it on the ground and opened it to reveal clothing and a false bottom which he lifted. He transferred the money from the two cases into the space and then replaced the bottom and the clothes. “Leave the empty cases here,” he said, and he picked up the suitcase as though it weighed nothing. “Someone will collect them.”

“Bonne chance,” said Marianne.

“À toi aussi,” said the man, and then he disappeared back into the shadows.

“We must hurry,” said Marianne. “We are getting the aurore.”

Kane wasn’t sure what she meant but he was fine with hurrying. “Are we going back the way we came?”

“No. We will go longer way, less dangerous.”

Kane felt lighter as he followed her along a different set of narrow streets, both physically, because he no longer had the case, and emotionally, because they had completed their mission and were on their way back to Abby and to Arnaud. They skirted the Place de la Bastille from the opposite side, crept down cobbled streets verdant with trees and shrubs. Many of the buildings had metal rails below the windows, even the ones high up, and the remains of plants hung limply over the sides. This was an area once cared for, now abandoned.

They were halfway down one of these streets when a uniformed man stepped out from a side street. He wasn’t looking their way and Marianne froze as did Kane. They were about to run to the nearest doorway, Kane’s body already half turned in that direction, when the man spun around and stared directly at them.

“Halt!” he shouted, and Kane’s stomach dropped into his boots. Neither he nor Marianne moved for a second. The man glanced to his left. “Komm her,” he said, gesturing back down the side street. He turned back to Kane and Marianne and said something Kane couldn’t understand. A moment later two more men came around the corner and stared at them.

“Fuck!” muttered Kane. “What are we going to do?”

“Run!” said Marianne, and so they did.


	10. La Résistance Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Marcus return safely to Abby?

Abby stood at the window obsessively scanning the street below for signs of Marcus and Marianne. It was long past dawn and they should have been back ages ago. Fear had gripped her heart, constricting it until it was painful. The citizens of Paris were starting to stir - at least two had walked past in the fifteen minutes she’d been standing there. There was little chance now that they would get back unseen. She tried to tell herself that there was a reasonable explanation. Maybe the contact was late. Maybe they were sheltering somewhere until it was dark again. They should never have come here; they should have found some excuse for staying in Fontainebleau. She knew deep down that there was nothing else they could have done, but it didn’t stop her berating herself for everything that had happened since forever. How long could she trace the time back? How many actions that could never be undone?

From the table came the sounds of Arnaud stirring, and Abby went over to him, grateful for the distraction. He opened his eyes and she smiled at him.

“You’re okay,” she said. “You’ll be fine.”

“Marianne...” he croaked.

“She’s fine. She’ll be back soon.”

Arnaud frowned. “She went out?”

“She and Marcus went to deliver the money, but it’s okay.” Abby talked in a soothing voice trying to calm him, but it didn’t work.

Arnaud tried to get up, arms flailing as there was no room for purchase on the tabletop. “Non! She should not be out.” He started muttering in French, and although Abby couldn’t understand the words, she understood the sentiment, the fear, and the pain, because she was feeling it herself. She laid her hand on his chest, leant over him.

“Arnaud, you must stay still. You will hurt yourself if you move. There is nothing we can do about them. We must wait.”

“Veste,” he said, pointing randomly around the room.

Abby figured he wanted his shirt although she couldn’t think why. She’d had to cut it to get it off him and it wasn’t in great shape.

“Your shirt is ruined, I’m afraid,” she said.

Arnaud shook his head in frustration. “My veste... er...” He screwed up his eyes while he thought. “Jacket. My jacket.”

“Oh, okay.” Abby got his jacket from the back of the chair she’d hung it over. “Are you cold? Is there something you want from it?”

“Pocket. In the pocket.” Arnaud lay back on the table, exhausted from saying those brief words.

Abby rummaged in his pockets, found a silver case that when she opened it contained a row of thin cigarettes. Surely he didn’t want to smoke right now? She showed them to him, and he pointed to one of the cigarettes.

“Take out. Empty,” Arnaud said, and Abby unsealed the paper carefully and emptied the contents into the lid of the tin. The paper had tiny lettering on the inside. A name and a number. She held it up to Arnaud.

“Oh, wow!” she said. “Is this what you want?”

He nodded weakly. “Our handler. He will help.”

“How can I find him?” Abby said.

“Telephone,” replied Arnaud, then he closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

Abby stood next to him, looking at the piece of paper. She knew what a telephone was, but she couldn’t see one in the apartment. She went into every room, looked in cupboards and under piles of paper but there was nothing even remotely like a communication device. What was she supposed to do with this number? There were other people in the apartment building - she’d heard a couple of doors shutting earlier – but she couldn’t exactly go and knock on doors and ask people in her American accent how to use a telephone! 

She spent the next half hour or so looking through everything in the apartment again, this time to see if there was anything useful at all. The chances of finding a note that detailed how to use a telephone in world war two France were minimal, but there might be something. Her search proved fruitful because she found a box of matches, a pencil and some paper and most importantly of all, a map of Paris and its surroundings that included Fontainebleau. Marcus would be so happy when he saw her treasure. In the kitchen cupboards she found some dry square biscuits like they’d had on the Ark and some packets of food that only required hot water to be edible. She put these items in her backpack and then went back and stole some of the brown powder she’d made into a drink, a small metal pan and two bowls. With these items they could be self-sufficient wherever they went. She unpacked and repacked her bag, fitting everything in as neatly as possible. She had no qualms about taking the items because there was still plenty left and she didn’t think they’d be missed.

The clock on the mantlepiece said six thirty. Abby stoked up the fire, returned to her place beside Arnaud. She stroked his arm absentmindedly, tried to be patient, which had never been her strong suit. She thought about all the things that could have gone wrong that didn’t involve Marcus lying dead or in a jail somewhere but her mind kept circling back to that possibility. It was frustrating not being able to do anything. She unfolded the piece of paper again, looked at the name and number. She wished she’d paid better attention in Earth History class when she was young. She hadn’t been interested though, had only wanted to learn biology and become a doctor like her mom.

“It wouldn’t matter if you’d listened,” she muttered to herself. “They wouldn’t have taught how to use a French telephone.”

Arnaud stirred again and opened his eyes.

“Marianne!” he cried, looking around the room.

Abby got up, went to him. “Shush, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Où es-tu, Marianne?” he said, which Abby didn’t fully understand.

“Try not to move,” she said.

“Where is she?”

“She’s still not back.”

Arnaud struggled into a sitting position and Abby tried to make him lie down but he was strong and impassioned, and he wasn’t for listening.

“I want to get up,” he said, swinging his legs over the side of the table.

“Okay,” said Abby, and she helped him to get down. He winced when he tried to stand, held his chest, doubled over with pain. “Come and sit in the chair; you’ll be more comfortable.”

She guided him to one of the large armchairs and helped him get comfortable in it. He was shivering and she stoked the fire, went into the bedroom to fetch a blanket which she draped over him. She put her hand to his forehead. He was warm, but not burning.

“How do you feel?” she said.

“There is pain, but it is fine.”

“You must let me know if you start to feel unwell.”

Arnaud nodded.

“Would you like a drink of something?”

“Coffee.”

“Coffee?” Abby wasn’t sure what coffee was. She picked up the mug she’d been drinking from, showed it to Arnaud. “This?”

“Oui.”

“Okay.” Abby went into the kitchen and made him a coffee. She didn’t make herself another one because she felt wired, was starting to get a buzz like when she was on the pills. She wasn’t sure if it was the drink or adrenaline from what was happening, but she didn’t want to have more just in case.

“How did you end up in the Resistance?” she said to Arnaud after they’d been sitting in silence for so long it had started to become painful. With no sign of Marcus and nothing she could do conversation would at least pass the time.

“Since two years. Marianne worked at Musée de l’Homme, it is, erm for exhibition and learning, yes? We printed leaflets, a newspaper to tell people about the Germans and the Résistance. Then we got more active, like the railroad where we met.”

“It’s such dangerous work,” said Abby. “You are very brave.”

Arnaud shrugged. “You expect to die, but it is better than to live like this, with these Germans.”

“Marcus and I, where we come from, we too were occupied I suppose you could say. We had to do things that we would never have thought we would do. I did. I did things that I... You think you know yourself, don’t you? You think you know how you would react, what you would do, what you would be willing to give up, but it’s not the same when you are in the situation. You do things... terrible things. Resistance is hard. You become conditioned, you become accepting, it all becomes normal.”

“You see that here. When the Germans occupied, people gave up, they accepted, and most still do. The Germans are strong, they are cruel, they will do anything to keep their power. No matter what they inflict, the instinct of the people to stay alive is strong. Better to live than to die, they say, but what kind of life are you living?”

“The urge to survive is strong, yes, it’s our nature, and I know that people will do anything to live, no matter what. I always thought we had to deserve to survive, and so to do good, to be worthwhile, but when I was tested, I failed. I didn’t resist what was clearly wrong, and in fact I actively supported it, encouraged it, made life worse for everybody. Was I scared to die? Yes, in the end, scared to lose Marcus, what we had. I survived, but the balance to that was the guilt, the self-loathing, because when you know something is wrong but you do it anyway, you can’t live as a whole person. You are split, and the halves gradually move out of line until there comes a point when you think you can never be whole again and so you start to die anyway in lots of different ways. There is always a reckoning, there is always a payment to be made.”

“Do you feel different now?”

“The truth is, Arnaud, I don’t know. For myself I would probably not fight so hard to live at any cost, because I know the price isn’t worth it, but I have Marcus. I have done things for him that I am too ashamed to tell you, and I would do them again. I can’t let him go, I just can’t. I don’t know what that makes me. Weak, I suppose, vulnerable, to outside forces at least.”

“Love is the human weakness, but also the strength.” Arnaud smiled faintly.

They lapsed into silence again and Abby stared into the fire. She hadn’t articulated those feelings before, about doing it all again. She couldn’t say it to Marcus because he wouldn’t want her to do those things again, not for him or for anyone. He had been the one willing to sacrifice the few for the many and she had not, then that had changed, and she’d been willing to sacrifice everything for him, and now she knew she still was. She was deeply flawed, selfish, single-minded, human.

The hours passed and she forced Arnaud to eat something although she couldn’t manage it herself. She succumbed to another coffee in the afternoon and half an hour later when she was pacing the small room and her head was buzzing pleasantly she had to concede it was the drink that was making her feel good. She’d have to ration it in the future because she was already growing fond of the feeling.

“I think I should call the number,” said Abby when Arnaud woke from one of the many naps he’d had during the day. “I can’t sit here any longer doing nothing.”

“You must wait until dark. If you go out now you will be stopped.”

Waiting until dark hadn’t helped Arnaud, Marianne or Marcus but Abby didn’t question him. He knew best how to operate in this city after all.

“Where can I make the call?”

“There is a box on the next street. It is only a short journey.”

“Okay.” Abby looked at the number again. She was going to have to ask him what to do no matter how strange it would look. “Erm, Arnaud... I come from a place where they don’t have telephones. We are, erm, like a religion, that doesn’t like technology.”

“Aah,” he said. “That is why you had the strange clothes.”

“Yes,” said Abby, thinking they should have said they’d escaped a cult at the start. It would have explained a lot of things more easily and wasn’t exactly untrue. “How do I make a call?”

“You need coins. I have some.” He fished into his pocket, grimacing as he stretched the wound.

“Be careful,” Abby said.

“It’s okay.” He handed her some small circular pieces of metal that were different sizes and colours. “There is box and inside it is a machine with a handle you can lift. Lift the handle and somewhere on the machine is a slot for the money and you put this silver one in there.”

“Okay.”

“There is a, erm, circle thing and there are smaller circles with numbers. You see the numbers on the paper. You put your finger into the small circle that has the same number and you turn it to the right as far as it will go. It will spring back. Then you do the same with the next number until all the numbers have been used. Then someone will answer and you must say ‘Il n'y a pas de lune ce soir’.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means there is no moon tonight. If you say that, Jean-Paul will know you are not the enemy, then tell him Arnaud Joubert gave you the number.”

Abby repeated the phrase Arnaud had given her, practising it with him until she had it perfect and even Arnaud was pleased with her accent.

“I’ll have to speak in English after that. I don’t know any French.”

“He can speak English.”

“Okay. I will do it.”

“You had better change your clothes. You will attract attention in those even in the dark.”

Abby went into the bedroom, opened the closet and rummaged through the clothes. She wanted to pick something timeless if possible, that wouldn’t look too out of place no matter what time they ended up in, but she had no idea what that might be. In the end she chose a pair of loose fitting high-waisted trousers in a dark grey and a white blouse. There was a dark grey jacket made out of a soft material with three buttons and a belt around the waist. She changed into the clothes, looked at herself in the mirror on the wall, was shocked at who looked back at her. She seemed like a different person.

“That is much better,” said Arnaud when she returned to the living room.

“Thank you,” said Abby, and she sat in the armchair and waited for night to fall.

At the appointed time she went over everything again with Arnaud and then reluctantly left him sitting in the armchair. She crept silently down the stairs, determined not to get caught, because if she did then there was no one to help any of them. Marcus and Marianne would be lost forever, and Arnaud would be alone in the apartment.

Through the door and into the courtyard. All the windows of the apartments were shuttered and when she looked up the dark shapes of the buildings loomed over her. She shuddered. She opened the gate that led onto the street slowly, peered out. There was little to see because it was so dark. She went down the street, her heart beating hard, and turned left as Arnaud had directed. Her eyes were adjusting to the gloom, but not quickly enough, because as she turned the final corner a shape appeared in front of her, and then she was grabbed and one hand was around her waist and another hand was over her mouth to silence her not that she had the breath to scream.

She struggled, kicked out, tried to elbow her assailant in the ribs and managed to connect.

“Fuck!” said a voice, strangled in pain but familiar.

Abby’s heart leapt into her throat. “Marcus?”

“Abby?”

The grip on her relaxed and Abby turned to face her assailant. His features would be recognisable to her even if she couldn’t see at all, and she touched his face, ran her fingers over his cheeks before flinging her arms around his neck and hugging him to her.

“That is you, Abby?” said another voice, Marianne this time.

“Yes, it’s me. Oh, God I thought I’d lost you,” she said, kissing Marcus’s face before landing on his lips.

“We’d better get inside,” said Marcus, taking her hand and heading back in the direction Abby had come.

They were silent as they walked back along the street, round the corner and into the courtyard, up five flights of stairs until they were at the door to the apartment. Abby opened it, and Arnaud peered from his armchair, surprise on his face.

“I’ve found them!” Abby said, dragging Marcus into the room and then falling into his arms again as Marianne shut the door and rushed over to Arnaud.

“It’s so good to see you,” Marcus said, putting both hands on her head and bringing her lips to his so he could kiss her. Abby ran her fingers through his short hair; it was damp with sweat.

“What happened? Where were you? Are you both okay?”

“We’re fine,” said Marcus.

“Marcus was hurt,” said Marianne.

“What? Hurt? What do you mean?” Abby looked at Marcus who shook his head.

“It was nothing. I’m fine.”

“Where were you hurt?”

“My hip,” he said, and as he lifted his jacket Abby saw there was a tear at the bottom of it, and a similar one in his t-shirt.

Abby pulled up his t-shirt to find a long mark like a burn across his hip. It had broken the skin in one place and blood had crusted around it. “What caused this?” she said, touching it gently making Marcus wince.

“A bullet,” said Marianne matter-of-factly and Abby looked up in time to see Marcus frowning at her.

“Oh, God, Marcus! A bullet! Who was shooting at you?”

“German soldiers,” he said, trying to pull his t-shirt down.

“No,” said Abby. “That needs cleaning and checking. Sit down.” She pushed him towards one of the chairs next to the table and he sank into the seat.

“What were you doing out there?” said Marcus, screwing up his face as she bathed the wound in warm water. The cut wasn’t deep, and the burn was partial thickness and superficial. It would be painful nevertheless and she rubbed cream over it with gentle fingers.

“Trying to help you. What happened? Why are you so late back?”

“It’s a long story,” said Marianne with a tight laugh.

“We have all night. Tell me.”

\---

“I’m sorry for grabbing you,” said Kane as Abby moved two of the chairs closer to the fire and the four of them sat nursing glasses of something alcoholic in front of the fire. “We thought you were going to... I don’t really know what we were thinking, our nerves were fraught.”

“It’s okay. I was stupid to go out, but I was getting desperate.”

He looked at her pale, drawn face, her tired eyes. He was the stupid one to have even contemplated leaving her for some madcap mission let alone going through with it and putting them all in danger.

“I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through,” he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“He thinks charm will win me over,” Abby said to Marianne who was nursing a drink and a cigarette.

“And does it?”

Abby turned back to Kane, smiled gently. “Sometimes.” She laced her fingers through his. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“We got to the rendezvous okay, considering. Everything went fine with the handover, but it took us so long to get there dawn was breaking when we set off back.”

“I thought a longer route would be less dangerous,” said Marianne, taking a long drag on her cigarette and blowing the smoke thankfully towards the fire. Kane didn’t like the smell of it, the way it pervaded everything in the room. “It didn’t turn out that way.”

“We’d been walking maybe twenty minutes, I don’t know for sure, and as we were heading down a narrow street a German soldier suddenly appeared in front of us. He didn’t see us at first, and I thought we had time to hide, but no. He turned, and he shouted, and then he called his colleagues and before we could do anything three of them were staring at us. I think they were as shocked to see us as we were to see them.”

“Definitely. It was good they were only stupid soldiers because otherwise we would be dead,” said Marianne.

Kane wished she wasn’t so blasé about the danger they’d faced. Abby looked upset, which was understandable. She gripped Kane’s hand tighter. “What happened then?” she said.

“We ran! I tried to zigzag because I knew they would have guns and then we could hear them running after us, their boots pounding on the cobbles. Then the first gunshot rang out. It didn’t hit us, but it was close because a piece of a building in front of me shattered. There were more gunshots and Marianne turned down a side street and I ran after her and we weaved in and out of buildings and I thought we had lost them. I couldn’t hear their boots anymore, and the gunfire had ceased.”

“But they were still there?” said Abby.

“No. We had lost them, but the gunshots and the general noise had attracted the attention of other soldiers, and we ran into a pair on the Rue de Rivoli. They nearly captured us, but we fought them off.”

“I bit them!” said Marianne proudly.

“I got in a punch or two as well!”

“I let you think that.” She grinned at him.

“I definitely heard one of them scream.”

“That’s because I kicked him where it hurts.”

Kane laughed but Abby wasn’t amused. Her mouth was set in a thin line. She was angry with him probably for the danger he’d placed himself in.

“Anyway,” he said to move the story along. “They shot at us as well, but I thought we’d escaped injury. I felt something while I was running, a sting, but I thought it was some masonry falling on me because the bullets were wild and hitting the buildings everywhere.”

“Oh, God, Marcus! You could have been killed!”

“I wasn’t, though. It worked out fine.”

“Only by sheer luck.” Abby sighed heavily.

“There was luck, yes, but Marianne knew what she was doing. We managed to outrun them by going down lots of shortcuts and we got across the river. Marianne knew a safe place, and we sheltered there to wait for nightfall. You know that church we could see out of the window yesterday, the one with the twin towers?”

“Yes,” said Abby, still not smiling.

“We went there. What is the name of it, Marianne? I know it from...” - he was going to say history but that would be very confusing for everyone – “from books, but I can’t remember.”

“It is Cathédrale Notre-Dame. You have read the story of the hunchback, no?”

“Yes,” said Kane although he’d never heard of the story. “Notre-Dame, that’s it. They have a secret place inside, down in the, I don’t know what you would call it but it was beneath the floor, like a big room with vaulted ceilings.”

“We call it a crypte; it is where they keep the bodies,” said Marianne.

“We stayed there, and that’s when I realised I’d been shot, but Marianne examined it and it didn’t seem too bad. When it got dark we came out. The church isn’t too far, just across the river, and then we bumped into you. That’s it.”

Kane tried to look both contrite and heroic in the hope that Abby would soften, because she looked scarier than the Germans at this moment.

“You are both very lucky, and very stupid,” she said.

“Yes,” said Arnaud. “You should not have gone, Marianne.”

Marianne gave an exaggerated shrug. “It is done now, and we succeeded.”

“I’m sorry,” said Kane again, and he was, although a part of him had enjoyed the adventure, despite the danger. It had been good to feel useful, to be doing something important, that mattered. He’d felt helpless for so long.

“It’s okay,” said Abby, leaning in to take his head in her hands and kiss his lips. “Like Marianne, said, it’s done now.”

“Now we just have to get back to Fontainebleau.”

“You want to go back to where we found you?” said Marianne, surprised. “Why?”

“It’s a long story, but yes, we need to go back.”

She took a long drag of her cigarette, then flicked the butt into the fire. “I will take you.”

“Oh, no, Marianne. We wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.”

“Hang on,” said Abby. She turned to Kane, spoke quietly. “How else are we going to get there? Walking could take three or four days, and who knows what could happen in that time. Last night you went a short distance and it took you nearly twenty-four hours. If she wants to take us, we should let her.”

“I don’t want to put her at risk, Abby.”

“She put you at risk,” she whispered.

“That was my choice.”

“And this is hers.”

He knew she was right so he didn’t argue further. Besides, he’d put her through enough stress, caused her to risk her own safety trying to help him. He owed her.

“You’re right,” he said. He looked at Marianne. “We would be grateful if you could take us.”

“It will be my pleasure.” She stood, helped Arnaud to stand, her arm wrapped around his waist. “We will go to bed now, and I will take you tomorrow after we eat.”

“Thank you,” said Abby. “Are you okay, Arnaud? Do you want me to check your wound?”

“I am fine. Thank you. Marianne can look after me now.”

“Okay.”

They headed towards the bedroom, then Marianne turned. “You want to join us in the bed?”

“Erm...,” said Kane, unsure what she was asking.

“I... we...” Abby turned to look at Kane, eyebrows raised in question. Surely she wasn’t considering it!

“I don’t think I could sleep altogether like that,” said Kane.

“Who said you will be sleeping, Marcus?” Marianne looked at him deadpan and Kane was at a loss as to how to respond.

“Erm...”

“Don’t worry. It is too shocking for you British Americans, no? I will get you blankets and things.” She helped Arnaud into the room.

Kane and Abby stood staring after her until she returned with an armful of blankets and pillows. “Sleep well,” she said, winking at them, and then she pulled the door shut behind her.

Kane and Abby folded the blankets, laid them on the floor.

“Do you think she was joking?” said Kane.

“I’m not sure,” replied Abby, plumping up the pillows.

“Have you ever?”

“What, been with another couple?”

“Yeah, or, you know, another woman.”

“No.” She examined his face critically. “Would you want to?”

“Would you?”

She didn’t answer at first, which made Kane’s pulse race. He felt hot but also jealous at the thought of her wanting to be with another man or woman.

“I asked you first,” was her considered reply.

“I wouldn’t want to be with anyone but you.”

“I’m the same.” She smiled up at him and he wasn’t entirely convinced she wasn’t just saying that to appease him. If he’d said he would want to, would she have given a different answer? He supposed he would never know now.

She stood in front of him, looking up into his eyes with her big brown ones wide and full of mischief. Kane stroked her cheek gently.

“You look hot in these clothes,” he said, running his fingers down her soft jacket. He grabbed hold of the belt, pulled her closer to him and then untied it.

“You like them, yeah?”

“Yeah. You look beautiful.” He unbuttoned the jacket, slipped it from her shoulders. Beneath it was a white blouse that was silky to his touch. He unbuttoned that too to reveal a vest in an even softer material. When he rubbed her nipples through it she sighed and pressed herself closer to him. “Does that feel good?” he whispered.

“Yes.” She undid the belt on his pants, popped the button and the zipper, pushed the pants down. Kane stepped out of them, kicked them away. “We need to get new clothes for you too tomorrow,” Abby said.

“I won’t look as good as you.” He pulled the top over her head, grasped a breast in each hand and massaged them.

Abby stroked his cock through his underpants, and then she slid to her knees, taking his pants with her. She grabbed his ass with both hands, pushed him towards her, taking his cock into her mouth and sucking on it. Kane groaned as quietly as he could.

“I hope they don’t come out of the bedroom now,” he said as he gripped Abby’s head to steady himself.

Her laugh vibrated around his cock. When she’d taken him as far as she wanted she pulled him to the floor, wriggling out of her pants and then guiding him inside her.

“Don’t I get to taste you?” he said thrusting slowly.

“No. I want this.” Her hands were on his ass again, encouraging him to go harder and faster. He lifted her legs so they were over his shoulder and he could bury himself deeper.

“I hope you’re not thinking of Arnaud,” he said, and she opened her eyes and laughed.

“Marianne,” she said, and then she flipped them so she was on top. She put her hands on his chest, used him to support herself as she moved.

“Is it wrong if I say that thought is hot?”

She bent and kissed him. “No, but you will be disappointed. It’s you she wants, not me.”

“She has good taste.”

“She’s crazy.”

Kane played with her nipples, resisting the temptation to twist one in revenge for her comment. “Are you saying only crazy women are attracted to me?”

“If I say that it would be some kind of admission about me, wouldn’t it?”

“I’m definitely not going to answer that,” he said, and then he flipped them again, covering her mouth with his as he fucked her so she couldn’t reply.

Afterwards they lay side by side on the makeshift bed, one of the blankets folded over them. “Big day tomorrow, then,” said Kane, stroking Abby’s belly.

“It will be interesting as we have no idea what’s going to happen with the anomaly.”

“No, but I guess we’ll find out.” Kane rolled towards Abby for a change, rested his head on her chest. She stroked his hair.

“Don’t do what you did to me today again, will you?” she murmured.

“I won’t. I promise.”

End Part Four


	11. La Résistance Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the final part of episode two Abby and Kane return to Fontainebleau. Will they find the anomaly?

The next morning while Marianne went out to get the truck and Abby tended to Arnaud’s wound, Kane looked through the closet trying to figure out what to wear. Abby had said to pick something classic but what did that mean? Nothing in the closet resembled anything he’d seen before. Arnaud wore trousers and a sweater over a shirt. Kane found a pair of dark blue trousers and when he put them on the waist was halfway up his chest. There were no loops for a belt. How were they supposed to stay up? He found a white shirt and put that on, tucking it into the pants in the hope that the extra material would hold them in place. It didn’t. He went into the living room, stood holding up the trousers.

“Is this right?” he said to Arnaud? “They won’t stay up.”

“You need the suspenders, like these.” He lifted his sweater to show a pair of straps that attached to the pants.

“Okay,” said Kane, and he returned to the closet, found something similar and tried to attach them but couldn’t figure it out. He was forced to return to the living room where Abby fitted them for him.

“Very nice,” she said, pinging the straps against Kane’s chest.

“Hey!”

“They seem fun,” she said, grinning at him suggestively.

Kane returned to the bedroom, found a blue sleeveless vest thing that buttoned up, and a jacket that was the same style as the pants. He looked at himself in the mirror, amazed at what he saw. A man he barely knew looked back. A handsome man he had to admit!

“Do you need more help?”

Kane turned to see Arnaud leaning against the door. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

“You need a cravate.” Arnaud gestured to Kane’s neck.

“What’s that?”

Arnaud pulled a long thin piece of blue material from the closet. “I show you.”

He lifted the collar of Kane’s shirt and put the material beneath it, then in a series of moves that were too quick for Kane to memorise he fastened the material so that it tied in a knot beneath the collar and hung down above the shirt buttons.

“Voilà! You are Frenchman.” He grinned at Kane, the teeth he bared crooked and stained.

“Thank you.” The thing tied around his neck made him feel strangled, and he pulled on the collar to loosen it.

He entered the living room just as Marianne returned. “Oh là là!” she said, smiling approvingly.

“Wow!” said Abby, looking him up and down. “You look really handsome.”

“Thank you. I don’t like this thing, though,” he said, pulling on the collar and tie again.

“You will get used to it,” said Marianne, coming over to him. “And here, you can loosen this, and it will not be so bad.” Her hands were on the tie before he knew what was happening, pulling on it gently, then she undid the top button of his shirt, her fingers grazing his skin, before pushing the knot of the tie back into place. Kane glanced at Abby who was standing with arms folded, a wry smile on her face. “Does that feel better?” murmured Marianne sotto voce, her face inches from Kane’s.

“Yes, thank you.” Kane took a step back and she dropped her hand.

“We are nearly ready to go. I have the truck and some pamphlets we are taking back to Fontainebleau. Do you have everything you need?”

“I think so,” said Abby, picking up her backpack. It looked incongruous now against her soft grey jacket, but they didn’t have anything else to carry things in. It would have to do.

“We are leaving Arnaud here. I don’t want him to travel with his wound.”

“I think that’s wise,” said Abby. She gave Arnaud a hug. “Thank you for everything, and for keeping me company yesterday. It was good to talk to you.”

“Thank you for looking after me so well. You saved me.”

“Oh, I don’t think it was that bad, but...”

“That’s what she does,” interrupted Kane before she dismissed her skills and abilities like she had become prone to do. Abby smiled at him.

Kane shook Arnaud’s hand and looked around the apartment one last time. They’d been welcomed here unconditionally, which hadn’t happened to him in a long time. He felt surprisingly emotional at leaving it. “It’s a shame we didn’t see more of Paris,” he said as they headed for the door. “I would have liked to see the Eiffel Tower.”

Marianne paused, one hand on the door handle. “I can perhaps help you, if you want.”

“How?” said Kane.

“Follow me.”

She opened the door and went out but instead of going down the stairs she turned right and through a narrow door Kane hadn’t noticed before. They ascended a short, steep set of stairs, and at the top was another door. Marianne opened that and warm air hit them. Kane went through the door, followed by Abby, and found himself on the roof of the building.

“Oh, wow! he said, as he gazed at the city spread out before him.

“There is the tower,” said Marianne, pointing across the river to where a tall black structure rose above everything else. “And we have Montmarte, and Sacré-Cœur.” She pointed at a white domed building on top of a hill.

“It’s beautiful,” said Kane, putting his arm around Abby who was standing next to him.

“The Louvre.”

She pointed to a huge stone building surrounding a courtyard just across the river from them. There was no pyramid because it hadn’t been created yet. That more than anything else made Kane realise they were part of a living history.

“It’s all so big!” said Abby. “So many buildings. I can’t believe it.”

So many buildings, and so many people, and in just over a hundred years they would all be gone. The loss was incalculable, and this was just one city out of thousands in the world. The thought made him sad, and he pushed it to one side. He’d return to it later but for now he wanted to enjoy this view, and this moment in time.

\---

The journey to Fontainebleau was uneventful. Once they were past the outskirts of Paris Abby and Marcus were able to emerge from their tomb beneath the boards and enjoy the fresh air. Abby had mixed feelings about leaving. She’d grown fond of Arnaud and Marianne, despite the woman’s bold flirting with Marcus. It was amusing and wasn’t done with any intention to hide or cheat or pretend to be something she was not. She was a free spirit, and she reminded Abby of Raven back when she’d first met her. Would she be seeing her again soon? What would that mean? What would happen if they turned up again in Sanctum? She didn’t want to go back there. If it weren’t for Clarke she’d keep Marcus as far away from Lightbourne and his cult of freaks as possible. There was only Gavin, and Raven’s friend whose name had already slipped her mind. Ryder or something. The rest of them could go to hell.

They arrived at the farm mid-afternoon, and helped Marianne unload the pamphlets and store them in the barn. They were propaganda leaflets for the Germans the same as the ones that had covered the money. It was the way Marianne and her Resistance comrades ensured their safe passage to and from the farm. As safe as anything could be when capricious German soldiers were involved.

“I have heard the Germans are still working on the railway,” said Marianne as they sat around the farmhouse table sipping coffee she’d made on the stove. “But they will be finished tomorrow or the day after.”

“Then we will leave as soon as they are gone,” said Marcus.

“Why do you need the railway? Are you hoping to board a train somewhere?”

“Something like that. It’s best you don’t know too much.” Marcus drained his cup, put it on the table with a happy sigh. “I could get used to this stuff.”

“You are welcome to take what you need from the house,” said Marianne, and Abby felt a pang of guilt for stealing from the Paris apartment. She hadn’t known then that Marianne would be such an ally and agree to bring them here.

“Thank you,” she said.

“I must go back to Arnaud soon.” She looked reluctant to leave and Abby felt tears prick her eyes at the thought of saying goodbye and never seeing this spirited woman again.

“You know what to do to take care of him?” she said.

“I do. You were an excellent teacher. Will you collect the eggs and milk the cow while you are here?”

“We have no idea how to milk the cow,” said Marcus, looking bemused.

“I will show you.” Marianne took Marcus outside while Abby washed the cups and cleaned the kitchen.

They returned half an hour later with a pail of milk and a large grin on Marcus’s face.

“Look what we got!” he said, showing the bucket proudly to Abby.

“That’s wonderful. Was it difficult?”

“The cow was unhappy at first, but I showed Marcus how to whisper to her. You have to be firm but seductive with a woman, isn’t that right, Abby?” said Marianne, winking at her as Marcus turned pink-cheeked.

“Well, you can try,” said Abby. “Is that what you think, Marcus?”

“I like the seductive part.” He coughed. “Anyway, what should we do with this?”

Marianne showed him how to store the milk and gave them brief instructions on how to work the stove and what to do if anyone called unexpectedly.

“You will be okay, then?” she said as they stood in the yard.

Abby nodded, the tears already forming in her eyes. “Thank you so much for helping us,” she said, bringing Marianne into a warm hug.

“You helped us. You have been the most... unusual and entertaining guests. I wish you well in your endeavours.”

“Thank you, Marianne,” said Marcus. “We’re indebted to you.”

“Aah, Marcus,” she said, smiling warmly at him. “You owe me nothing. We are friends, no, and friends help each other.” She reached up and kissed him on each cheek. “I will miss you.”

“We’ll miss you too,” said Marcus, putting his arm around Abby as Marianne got into the truck. She backed it up and then stopped beside them, leaning her arm on the window and smiling at them.

“You will look after each other, yes?”

“We will,” said Marcus.

“Marianne...” said Abby before the woman drove away.

“Yes?”

“You will win your fight. Have faith.”

“Dear Abby. What will be, will be. We live each day. That is all we can do. Au revoir mes amis!”

“May we meet again,” said Abby and Marcus in unison.

Abby watched as Marianne drove out of the farm and onto the dirt road. When the dust had settled, she turned to Marcus with a sob and he held her tightly to him.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “She’ll be fine and so will we.”

“I hope so. Maybe if we don’t go back to Alpha but end up in the future we can look them up, see what happened.”

Marcus took her head in his hands, kissed her lips softly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you? Better to imagine them living happily ever after.”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“Definitely. Now what are we going to do to wile away the next few hours before dinner?”

\---

“We’ve never done this before,” said Kane as he cracked eggs into a bowl.

“Done what?”

“This. Cooking together, making something.”

“I’ve never cooked at all.”

“Me either. Even out on patrols someone else did it.”

“Perks of being Chancellor,” said Abby grinning at him.

“There weren’t many, but that was one of them. Can you remember what they did with this next?”

They both stared at the eggs.

“They stirred it with a fork.”

“Okay.” Kane stirred the eggs with a fork and gradually the clear bits and the yellow bits merged together. “That look right?”

“Yes.” Abby was melting butter in a pan on the stove. “Pour them in here,” she said, and Kane complied.

“Now I think we just stir.”

“Shall we put some of the cheese in it?”

“I don’t think they did that.”

“We could try, be adventurous.”

“Okay. Why not.”

Kane retrieved the cheese from the larder and unwrapped the wax paper. He cut off a chunk and added it to the eggs. It melted appealingly and smelled delicious.

“This looks great! When will we know when it’s done?”

“When it looks like it did when we ate it.” Abby gave him a sarcastic smile.

“I’ll cut some bread.” He sliced big chunks of the bread and covered them in the yellow butter, tearing off a piece and eating it while he thought Abby wasn’t looking.

“Hey!” she cried. “Where’s mine?”

“Okay, okay.” Kane cut off another piece and gave it to her. She ate it while she stirred the pot.

“This is starting to stick,” she said, frowning as she scraped the pan.

“Better have it now then.”

Kane put the bread on two plates and Abby scooped the eggs out and piled them on top. Quite a lot was stuck to the bottom of the pan and when she scraped it, it was brown.

“I think I’ve burnt it,” she said mournfully.

“It will add flavour,” said Kane, hoping it wasn’t completely ruined.

They sat next to each other at the table and tried the food. The eggs weren’t as dainty as when Marianne had made them. They were large lumps, and some were tinged brown, but the cheese was tasty and all in all Kane thought it was pretty good.

“We did well!” he said.

“Our first meal!” said Abby, high fiving him.

“Maybe we will survive this.”

“What will be, will be,” said Abby, smiling as she quoted Marianne.

\---

As darkness fell they closed all the shutters, lit the oil lamps and settled into two chairs in front of the kitchen fire. Abby realised with shock that this was the first time they’d been truly alone somewhere. All their lives together there had been other people around, living in close quarters with them. They’d had their sanctuaries of course, like the brief time in Polis, and the bunker, not that you could call that place a sanctuary. Far from it.

“It’s so quiet,” she said, and her voice sounded loud after the silence.

“Peaceful,” said Marcus, reaching across the gap between their chairs and taking her hand.

“I was just thinking we’ve never been alone like this before.”

He stared into the fire while he thought. “No, I guess we haven’t.”

“So many new things we’ve learned here.”

Marcus turned and smiled happily at her. “Yes, it’s been wonderful in that sense. Speaking of... do you want some more coffee?”

“I’d better not.”

“Don’t you like it?”

“No, it’s great. I really like it, but it gives me a buzz, you know, like when I was taking the pills. I don’t want to start liking that feeling too much.”

Marcus squeezed her hand. “Oh, right, yes. It does make you feel good. We don’t have to drink it anymore.”

“I’m not saying that,” said Abby, unwilling to give up the thought of the coffee completely. “Maybe we stick to having it first thing. It will wake us up.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Yes. I don’t want to... I want to be able to control myself, and I don’t think having no exposure to temptation at all will help with that. I want to be able to have one drink, and then stop.”

“I think that’s a great idea. If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

Marcus stood, put another couple of logs on the fire then sat back down, taking Abby’s hand again. “Who knows where we’ll be tomorrow, or the next day.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine. Really good.”

“I’ve been keeping track of the days, and back on Alpha you’d relapsed by now.”

“I wasn’t sure how long it had been, but I figured it was around this time.” He turned dark, sparkling eyes on her. “Dare we hope?”

“I always hope, but I think we need to be more organised for when we go back into the anomaly.”

“What do you mean?”

“We need to think about what we’re going to do if we end up back on Alpha, and what we’re going to do if we end up somewhere and some time else.”

“My thoughts about Alpha are we align ourselves with Gabriel and his group. They have access to the tree sap if we need it, and they’re the best chance we have of overthrowing the Primes.”

“I agree. We need to get Clarke and the others on board. I... I wasn’t really there for her before, when I was looking for your cure.” The truth was she’d barely noticed Clarke, not when she’d been in the full grip of her mania regarding saving Marcus. She had a lot of making up to do with her daughter when they did see each other again.

“I’m sure she understood that.”

“I don’t know. She seemed different. What did you think?”

“I only spoke to her briefly, and I wasn’t well at the time, but she seemed distracted I’ll admit. She did have a lot on her plate.”

“That’s true.”

“What are you thinking about if we don’t end up back on Alpha?”

“I was thinking maybe we should try and find out more about the anomaly. If Gabriel knew about it on Alpha then there might be people in the other places.”

“Assuming we land somewhere that speaks English,” said Marcus laughing.

“Oh, God, yes. Please.” Abby made a prayer gesture with her hands. “We were so lucky this time to meet Marianne and Arnaud.”

“We were.” Marcus looked intently into Abby’s eyes. “I was thinking this morning when we were on the rooftop about the apocalypse, and how all of this is gone by the time we’re born.”

“I thought that too. The sheer number of people was shocking.”

“What if there’s something we can do to prevent it?”

“Prevent the apocalypse? Like what?”

Marcus stood, started pacing the room as he thought. “I don’t know, but there must be something. Alie caused it. What if we could stop her?”

“We can’t control where or when we go in the anomaly. How can we stop Alie?”

“There were lots of things that led to Alie doing what she did. She wanted to control population, didn’t she, which we know something about. There could be any number of small things we could do that would change the final outcome. It would depend on what year and place we ended up. I’m not saying I have any answers, but maybe we should think about it.”

“What if we do one small thing and it changes the world in a different way that’s equally as catastrophic? If we change one thing then that could have a million knock-on effects. We might make it so that we’re never born.”

“If we’re never born how can we come back to make the change?”

“You wouldn’t need to make the change.”

“But that would only be because we’d come back and changed things!”

“God! Once you start thinking along these lines it’s a mind fuck!”

Marcus stopped pacing. “Until we go back into the anomaly we won’t know anything for sure, but let’s say we don’t go back to Alpha.”

“I can’t never see Clarke again!” said Abby, her chest growing tight at the thought.

Marcus knelt in front of her, took her hands. “Clarke will always be our priority. We’ll try and get back to her, I promise you that, but if we can’t get back there, or at least not for a while, we have an opportunity to do something good, whether it’s for the whole world or whatever part of it we land in. I think we should think about that, try to make what’s happening to us meaningful.”

“I agree, as long as you don’t go running off putting yourself in danger.”

Marcus brought her hands to his lips and kissed them. “I promised you I wouldn’t.”

“Whatever we do we do it together.”

“Agreed.” He turned her hand and kissed her palm, and then her wrist. Abby sighed happily, knowing where this was going to end up.

“I was thinking,” continued Marcus, “that we have an empty house and no one around. We could do whatever we wanted.”

“What do you have in mind?” said Abby, loosening his tie.

“Being completely naked for one thing.”

“That’s nothing new.” She undid the buttons on his jacket, only to reveal more buttons beneath. “How many layers are you wearing?”

Marcus chuckled. “A few. We’re often naked, yes, but we’ve never been naked together on a kitchen table.”

“That’s very true,” murmured Abby, pushing his jacket and vest off his shoulders.

He shrugged out of them then held out his hand and pulled Abby up. He peeled off each item of her clothing slowly, kissing the bared skin as he went. By the time he’d finished, Abby was throbbing with anticipation. She fumbled with his shirt and trousers, desire making her fingers shake. When they were both naked, he led her to the table, lifted her so she was sitting on the edge.

“I never got to taste you yesterday,” he said, before parting her legs and sinking to his knees.

He’d always been so good at this, his tongue clever and practised. She ran her fingers through his hair as he licked her, curling the short strands around her fingertips, enjoying their softness. There was no need to be quiet because there was no one to disturb, so she was vocal with her appreciation, and he liked that, if his own groans were anything to go by.

He entered her standing up while she was still pulsing from her climax, and she lay back on the hard table, stretched out her arms so her body was taut. Marcus ran his hands all over her, grasping her breasts, bending so he could suck each nipple in turn.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he said, pausing in his thrusting to pay particular attention to her neck which he loved to nibble.

“I think I could stay here and fuck you forever,” sighed Abby, and Marcus’s lips vibrated against her neck as he chuckled.

“Our love is now literally timeless,” he said, making Abby laugh as well.

“Mmmm,” she said as he kissed his way back down her body. “That’s nice but... I want something else.”

He looked up at her with dark, lust-filled eyes. “What do you want?”

“I want you from behind. I love how it feels that way.”

“I’m sure I can oblige,” he murmured, easing her down from the table then turning her so she was facing it.

She bent forward, spread herself over the tabletop, arms outstretched again, breasts squashed against the wood. When he entered her his thrust pushed her along the surface, her nipples rubbing against the grain. It was rough, just on the edge of too much, and she groaned. Marcus leant his long body over her again as he fucked her, his hands on top of hers, his lips against her ear, whispering to her.

Afterwards they gathered up their clothes, switched off the lamps and felt their way up the stairs in darkness. In the bedroom they lay curled together, limbs entwined.

“I love you,” whispered Abby. “To know that wherever I go and whatever I do I’ll always be with you gives me strength, and hope.”

“You’re my anchor,” Marcus replied. “You keep me honest.”

“I’m weirdly excited about going into the anomaly tomorrow. There’s the hope I might see Clarke, but beyond that there’s the wonder of not knowing.”

“It’s an adventure. We’re time travellers.”

“We are.”

Abby rested her head on his chest, let the steady rhythm of his strong heart lull her to sleep.

\---

In the end it was two days before the Germans had repaired the railway and the coast was clear to look for the anomaly. They’d spent the time in the farmhouse, looking after the animals, collecting the eggs and milk, trying to cook something other than the eggs. Kane had found a book with descriptions of different meals to make. It was in French, but he’d managed to decipher enough for them to put together a stew of the type Marianne had made on their first night in France, and it had been edible if slightly odd tasting. He thought he might have mistranslated some of the herbs. He’d torn some pages out and stowed them in Abby’s pack for future use.

They’d returned from their reconnaissance mission to the railway an hour before. Kane’s backpack had been where they’d left it, damp from sitting amongst the dewy grass, but it had dried in front of the fire and he was now packing it with vegetables and other food items they’d salvaged from the kitchen. They’d found some odd bits of spare clothing in the room Marianne and Arnaud had used. Underwear, socks, a sweater that would fit them both. Kane had shaved his stubble and Abby’s hair was neatly braided. There was nothing else to do except lock up the farmhouse and leave.

They stood in the twilight outside the door looking at each other.

“Part of me doesn’t want to leave,” said Abby.

“I feel the same way. We’ll be fine. It will be fine.” He stroked her arm and she nodded.

“Let’s go,” she said.

Half an hour later they were behind the hut near the railway, listening and watching for signs of people, but it was quiet. “We were in front of the hut, right next to the track,” Kane said.

“That’s right. Shall we go?” Abby gripped the straps of her backpack, a determined look on her face now that there was no turning back.

“Okay.”

They crept around the side of the hut and waited again. There was still no sign of anyone so Kane was emboldened and he stepped out towards the track. They’d come in the last moments of daylight so they’d be able to see the anomaly like they had on Alpha, but there was nothing to see, no shimmering light. He wasn’t hallucinating as far as he could tell.

“Anything?” he said to Abby who was searching a few metres away from him.

“No. I can’t feel anything.”

“I guess it makes sense it’s not obvious otherwise people would have seen it from the railway. It would be a well-known phenomenon.”

“If it’s hidden, how are we going to find it?”

They’d wondered about this back in Paris, but now that they were here it struck Kane that they might never find it again. They might be stuck here in France forever. He’d dismissed Abby’s concerns when she’d mentioned that possibility, so they hadn’t planned for that scenario. He’d been so confident that the anomaly would show itself to him somehow. What an idiot!

“We were stupid to think it would just be here waiting for us.”

“It has to be here somewhere. It can’t be a one-way system.” Abby’s voice told him she was saying that more in hope than expectation. That made Kane determined to find the thing. He wanted to give her the chance to see Clarke again. They had to find it.

“What was special about Alpha? What was around at the time we were there?”

“I don’t know. Us, Gabriel, Raven. I mean it was a massive obvious whirlwind on Alpha. It’s clearly different here.”

“Gabriel had been researching it, hadn’t he? You talked to him for a while. Can you remember what he’d found?”

“Erm. It needs a magnetic field, I think. Something created it. Oh!” Abby put her backpack on the ground, started pulling things out of it.

“What?” said Kane, kneeling beside her.

“This!” She pulled out the stone with the strange marking of a logarithmic circle. As she showed it to Kane the markings glowed a dim green.

“Oh, my God!” he said.

Abby repacked her backpack then stood holding the stone. She walked away towards the hut and the glow faded completely. As she came back to Kane it reappeared.

“It’s a compass!” she said excitedly.

“I can’t believe it. Gabriel must have known or hoped. That’s why he put it in your bag.”

“Thank you, Gabriel,” said Abby, kissing the stone.

She held it in front of her and walked closer to the track. The light from the spiral pulsed, its rhythm increasing or decreasing depending on which way she turned. At the edge of the track it glowed so brightly it lit the darkness, and Kane’s head started to pound the way it had on Alpha when they were approaching the anomaly. It was a hypnotic beat.

“Can you feel that?” he said to Abby.

“Yes. Hold my hand.”

Kane took her hand and suddenly the darkness was transformed with a pulsing green and yellow light, and the whirlwind was back. It was smaller than on Alpha, but its magnetic pull was just as strong, its energy throbbing in Kane’s body. It was calling to him like it had before.

“Are you ready?” said Abby, looking at Kane with eyes that were wide and hopeful.

“I am.”

“I love you. More than anything,” she said, like she had that first time.

“I love you too,” he said. “Always.”

They stepped together into the light.

End Episode Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Kabby Chronicles will return after a brief hiatus. Where will Kane and Abby end up next? Stay tuned...


End file.
